Once Upon A Midnight Dreary
by IMTrinity
Summary: Can one lonely vampire return to his old past, and learn to trust again? HP/SS SLASH.
1. Prologue

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Title: Once Upon A Midnight Dreary

Warning(s): Slash, of course. Definitely AU. Sexual content, language, some OOC, _very_ minor blood play.

Author's notes: This fic contains spoilers for just about every Harry Potter book. Also, I am disregarding certain events that transpired in Deathly Hallows, including almost the entire ending. About Vampires: Since J.K. Rowling did not go into great detail regarding Vampire traits, I have taken certain liberties while writing this. I hope you all enjoy. Reviews are most welcome.

Summary: Can one lonely vampire return to his old past, and learn to trust again?

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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The vampire waited patiently, overlooking the surprisingly busy street. He paid no heed to the rain pelting down on him, soaking him through. He leaned over the edge of the rooftop, only a rusty metal bar separating him from plummeting down to his death. He was unconcerned as he gripped the bar, knuckles going white.

His sharp eyes scanned over the tiny humans hurrying below, trying to escape the rain. He pursed his lips as he spied a potential meal. He closed his eyes and allowed his mind to focus on the individual- allowed his senses to overwhelm him. For a brief moment, he stood completely still, uncaring for the wet droplets that cascaded from the top of his dark head down his cheeks and eyelashes.

He bypassed the noise of the crowd; ignored the steady rhythm of the shower. His own mind found a connection, grabbing onto it quickly, immobilizing the individual for the briefest of moments. But it was enough. He had seen.

Opening his eyes, he breathed in the fresh nighttime air and whirled around, heading towards the back of the building. He looked down. Apart from a few hungry rats, he found no other signs of life. Without even crouching, he sprang from the rooftop and landed soundly and quietly on the wet cobblestones.

He slowly reached into his inner pocket and pulled out his wand, aiming it at himself. Whispering a drying spell, he put the wand away and walked around to the front of the building. A nearby bell tower sounded in the distance and the vampire smiled.

_Midnight; my favorite time._

He walked to the street, easily maneuvering through the crowd. He spied his target up ahead, skulking about from pub to pub. The air reeked of alcohol.

The vampire followed the unsuspecting man through a very narrow alleyway. He frowned in disgust as he watched the man take a piss, barely sober. He swayed from side to side as he attempted to zip his fly.

The vampire approached silently, wand in hand. The previous drying spell was inevident as the rain and wind thrashed his frame once more. He sighed at the inconvenience but did not attempt another. He focused on the stumbling man ahead.

"Wizard!" he hissed.

Alarmed, the man before him spun around and whipped out his own wand. His arm and voice clearly shaky, he asked: "Who's there? What do you want?"

His words were slurred and the vampire took pleasure at the fact. A lucent victim was preferred, but he would relish the long forgotten taste of wine and- he sniffed the air once more- bourbon. He smiled. Indeed, a fine meal.

The man looked frightened as he backed up against the stone wall, nowhere else to go. He stared at the unmoving creature, clad entirely in black, staring serenely back at him.

The vampire once more took hold of the man's mind, assaulting its most inner core. He always made sure his meal was worthy. The man froze as if shot, eyes glazing over.

Images flashed before his eyes. Images of torture, of abuse, of little innocent children, and finally, a most unforgivable use of Obliviate.

The vampire narrowed his eyes as he broke the mental connection.

"Of all the foul creatures that roam this earth, there is nothing worse than a pedophile." He paused at the look of surprise on the man's face. "You are very lucky sir. I have starved myself for such a feast as this."

He smiled wickedly.

The man, realizing the situation, shrieked in fright.

"Vampire!" he accused, flailing his wand.

"Yes," the creature said, and attacked.

The man had no chance of escape, even if he were sober. There was no retreat from the clutches of the Dark Creature. The fangs sank into the damp skin and the struggling ceased. True enough, the heavy tinge of alcohol colored the taste of blood.

The vampire groaned in appreciation. He closed his mind to the foul beast and drank. He had no wish to relive the man's disgusting follies. He licked his lips clean as he dropped the dead weight to the wet stone.

His hunger sated, he left the alleyway feeling rejuvenated, though a little empty, nonetheless. He sighed as he made his way once more through the small, indistinguishable town. The storm was not receding in the least and his night out was not as exciting as he thought it would be. It was still early but he had no desire to prowl the streets. His one goal had been fulfilled and he decided to retire early.

He walked through the old doors of the antiquated building and climbed the four flights up to his flat. He stood in front of his nondescript door and with a wave of his arm, disabled the multitude of wards that protected his existence.

He went inside where he peeled off his soaked clothing, leaving them on the floor. He went to the toilet and ran a boiling bath. As he waited, he flipped through The Daily Prophet, desperately seeking and hoping for any piece of news that may interest him. He didn't realize how pathetically lonely his existence was until he actually became interested in the drivel written in the more fiction-than-facts newspaper.

Finding nothing of consequence, he tossed it into the fireplace and went to his bath.

He stepped into the scalding water, barely registering the delicious burn. He cracked his neck and his back before sinking fully into the waiting water. He stared ahead, thinking of absolutely nothing.

He absentmindedly licked his lips in remembrance. He could still make out the tangy taste of wine in that vermin's blood. In fact, he noticed, he was feeling slightly affected. He relished the feeling and leaned his head way back, dipping his thick hair into the hot water.

He stayed in the tub for an hour, constantly using his wand to keep the water just the right scalding temperature. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander.

A full year he had stayed in the town. At first, it seemed like heaven. A small, but prosperous Wizarding village, as far away from London as possible and still in England. No one to recognize him; plenty of potential victims. He smiled at that.

If there was one redeeming quality to this curse, it was relishing the fact that he was purging the world, or at least England, from all the vile scum that littered it. The murderers, rapists, even the occasional Death Eater.

It gave him satisfaction, while at the same time, ensured his survival. He had to eat, and he found absolutely no problem with getting rid of the criminals at the same time. Of course, people became suspicious, as they are inevitably bound to do. He never spends a long time in one location. Certainly never as long as a year. He sighed. _Time to move on_.

Opening his eyes, he realized that seven years had past since he last set foot in London. Surely people have forgotten, moved on. He burned to return. Craved it. Yes, solitude and anonymity were nice, but he missed the familiar streets of Diagon Alley, missed the shops and old haunts. He even missed...

No. That was not even a possibility.

He sighed as he stepped out of the tub, wrapping a large towel around his thin frame. He wiped the fogged up mirror and stared straight through it.

He made his decision then. He would leave, tomorrow, at sunset. He suddenly smiled at the thought and proceeded to dry his hair.

A quiet rapping sound stopped his movements. He smiled and went to the living room window, unlatching it. A plump, snowy owl floated inside, landing on her familiar perch. She hooted, looking up at figure standing over her.

"Hey Hedwig. Enjoy your midnight snack?"

The owl hooted in response. The vampire laughed and stroked the owl's wet feathers.

"Yea, me too. Guess what girl? We're going home." He smiled as the bird cocked her head in acknowledgement.

_Yes_, thought Harry Potter. _Definitely time to return_.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Pairing: HP/SS

Warning: Just another reminder, this is a Vampire!Harry fic.

Author's notes: This fic is fully written. Please bear with me as I proof-read it for errors, spelling, etc. Reviews are greatly appreciated. For warnings, summary and disclaimer, see Prologue.

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Knockturn Alley was exactly as Harry had remembered it. Cobwebs littered the crevices of every door and window. Hookers skirted night and day, waiting for young foolish horny men to fulfill their every wish and take their very last knut. The air smelled of foul potions and other fluids which Harry tried not to dwell on.

He walked casually, politely waving away offers. He could smell sex in their blood as well as on their ragged clothing. He inhaled deeply, savoring the long forgotten scent. He was not interested in their advances however. He may be a vampire, a creature loathed and feared by thousands, but he still had his self dignity. He would not pay for a quick fuck, ever. Some things were just not worth it.

He located the inn easily enough. It was the only establishment that looked remotely decent in its structure and occupants. Making sure his sunglasses were in place, he walked through the turn doors and approached the front desk.

He spied the innkeeper reading the Prophet. He looked up as he saw Harry approach, an almost satisfied look in his eyes.

"Welcome sir. You need a room?"

"Yes," stated Harry. "Your largest, at least for a week."

The innkeeper smiled. "Of course sir. We have a fine room. Third floor, great view."

Harry rolled his eyes under his glasses. "That will do." He paid upfront and grabbed the key, walking to the stairway.

He arrived at his door and immediately checked for spells of any kind. He knew he was being paranoid, but, he mused, to be a vampire is to lead a paranoid existence. Satisfied, he unlocked the door and went inside.

The room, he found, was not too shabby. A large four poster bed with clean looking bedding resided off to the back. An adequate sofa stood against a large window. A wardrobe, nightstand and writing desk were the only other pieces of furniture.

The toilet also was decent enough. It was at least clean and he could see no traces of mold anywhere. Still, Harry performed a few cleaning spells, especially on the toilet and tub.

Returning to the main room, he reached into his pocket and took out a tiny trunk, placing it on the carpet. Pointing his wand at the object, he watched it grow in size, until it was almost bigger than he was.

He opened it, making sure all his meager possessions survived the journey. Satisfied, he closed and locked it, levitating it off to the corner, near his new bed.

He found himself mildly hungry, but he ignored the pangs, as he was used to them. He refused to feed every night. No matter how hard it got, he found himself surviving. Therefore, he realized, he could survive a few days without a meal.

Sighing, he reached into his other pocket and pulled out a tiny wooden object, which he enlarged and placed in front of a window. It was Hedwig's perch and he expected her anytime. Sure enough, ten minutes later, he heard the familiar rapping and opening the window, he let the owl fly in.

After she was settled, Harry decided to go out and explore. It was early and he was restless. Tying his hair back into a messy ponytail, he placed the dark glasses back on, changed shirts and went out.

Instead of choosing to stay in Knockturn, Harry left the forsaken Alley and found himself on Diagon Alley. He smiled, content to be back in such a familiar place. He briefly thought about renting a flat here, but decided, again, paranoid, that he would actually feel more secure and obscure in Knockturn Alley.

He casually walked by Ollivanders. The ancient building looked exactly the same, and as far as Harry knew, the man himself still worked there. He spied Gringotts up ahead as well as other, smaller shops that he remembered stopping in, years back, when he was still mortal.

He swallowed down the bitterness; it would not do to dwell on the past. There was no going back. He stopped walking.

_Then why did I come back?_

He found himself unable to answer. He knew he missed it. Missed his past, deeply. He missed his friends. Hell, he even somewhat missed his enemies. He would gladly take fighting Death Eaters and Dementors to his current nonexistence.

He put his hands in his pocket, more out of habit than to keep the chill away. It was a cold night, he realized. His breath came out smoky and he noticed frost on the windows.

Being a vampire meant not being able to feel the extreme temperatures as mortals did. It was a blessing as well as a curse. He would never catch cold, but he would never _feel _cold. Or the heat. The blessed warmth of a glowing fire meant nothing to him now. Only a small comfort on a lonely depressing evening. A freezing snowflake on his tongue made him want to retch. It was all the little things.

Not many people were out; it was well after two in the morning. The street was his. He, however had no particular place to go to, nor a friend he could converse with. He was all alone in this world.

That wasn't entirely true, of course. There were other vampires. Harry sneered at the thought. Vile beasts. Uncaring of anyone and anything. They took lives as easily as Voldemort did, just because they could. Harry wanted nothing to do with any of them. He was not one of them. He would not sink to their monstrous level.

The melancholy overtook him then, as it often did on occasion. His steps slowed and he felt his eyes droop. He took a deep breath, gulping in the freezing night air. He released a shaky breath and forced himself to keep moving. Bored and utterly depressed, he went back to the inn.

A small room towards the back caught Harry's attention. Slow music and muttered voices filled the stale air. Curious, Harry went to check it out. A couple of older wizards sat at a tiny table, playing chess. Looking around, Harry guessed the room was used as a sort of dining area plus bar.

The two men saw Harry lurking in the doorway and nodded in greeting.

Harry casually nodded back and turned to leave. He leaned back further into the wall, blending into the shadows. He observed the two men, speaking in soft tones to each other. One of the men laughed at something and reached with his hand, casually touching the other man's wrist. To Harry, the gesture was tender and slightly sensual in nature.

Harry blinked and left his hiding place, climbing the stairs three at a time. He could not get the image of those two men out of his mind. It wasn't the wizards that interested him, it was what they had. What he couldn't have. Jealousy coursed through him.

He locked and warded his room with the most deadliest spells he could think of. He flung his glasses on the bed and went to the toilet. Lighting the old-fashioned gas lamps, he braced his palms on the sides of the pedestal sink and glared at himself in the mirror.

Unnatural green eyes stared back at him, mocking him. He sneered at his reflection, at what he'd become. He took in his pale, almost translucent skin that was practically begging for nourishment, so smooth and perpetually hair-free. He imagined that he could have been attractive, at one time.

He never even got the chance to find out. Never got the chance to properly live, to love. First Voldemort, then before he even knew what was happening, he had died. His mortal life, over before he had even had a chance to live it. Violently taken away, like a rape victim losing their innocence. Taken away, just like that.

He had defeated the darkest and most powerful wizard and he could not defend himself against one vampire. He shut his eyes in remembrance. The memory was as fresh now as it had been years back. The pain of it never went away. He knew it never would. Each time he thought back, it was like a fresh wound, a scab, reopened. He despised his existence.

However, no matter how bleak it got, how desperate in his loneliness or disgust at his own thirst for blood, he never could attempt to end it all. Cowardly though it was, he preferred to breathe air, to wake up each new night and try to live a somewhat saintly life.

The blood he could do nothing about, but he could pick and choose whose pathetic life to take. It had been an easy choice. Murderers were a plenty. Death Eaters still walked free. Criminals were always abound. He would feed and rid the world of evil at the same time. Or try to anyway.

He left the toilet and flopped down on the bed, unnaturally exhausted. The clock on the wall read four.

He aimed his wand at the windows, one at a time, and muttered the spell to seal them, warding away the filters of daylight that would surely penetrate if left alone. Satisfied, he took off his boots and shirt and fell into a restless sleep.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Pairing: HP/SS

Warnings: Another reminded about SPOILERS!

Author's notes: Thanks to everyone who stopped by to read this! This fic is fully written. Please bear with me as I proof-read it for errors, spelling, etc. Reviews are greatly appreciated. For warnings, summary and disclaimer, see Prologue.

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The one good thing about wintertime was that the sun set much earlier. By 7:30, eightish, it was already safe enough to go outdoors. Harry relished that. Though the cold was bitter, plenty of people mingled in the alleyways, enjoying a quick fag or huddled in groups, just talking and laughing.

Harry passed such a group as he left the bookstore, new reading material in hand. That was the other good thing; more establishments were open during the early hours. He passed a packed restaurant, saw the dozens of people chatting and eating real food. The smell actually nauseated him as he walked by.

He was starved. He had waited three days after arriving to feed, and he knew he wouldn't be able to stave off the hunger much longer. He returned to the inn and deposited his purchase before changing clothes. He put on a black turtleneck sweater and a pair of plain grey slacks that fit him just so.

He actually smiled at his own reflection.

"Not too shabby, eh Hedwig?"

The owl glanced at him with wide eyes before uttering a 'hoot'. Moments later, she flew out of the open window into the night. Harry looked back at her departure.

"Happy hunting, girl."

Throwing on a dark cloak and gloves, he left the inn in search of dinner.

The smell of blood was intoxicating. He wanted a quick meal this night. Unfortunately, it was far too busy in Knockturn to stealthily stake out his prey. Once again, he found himself on a rooftop, looking down at the passing witches and wizards.

Ten minutes later, he zoned in on an individual walking out of some shop. As before, Harry allowed his mind to do all the work. Seconds later, he knew the man to be a dangerous criminal on the run, a foreigner. Wanted in Slovakia for crimes of a most grievous nature. Harry couldn't help but smile in delight.

Jumping off the roof without attracting attention proved no problem and locating his 'dinner' was easier still. After cornering the man in his own seedy flat, he fed on him, feeling better than he had in days.

He stepped into the dead man's bathroom and checked out his own reflection, pleased at what he saw. His skin seemed instantly thicker and slightly darker, the veins far more subtle. His lips were a healthy rosy color and his cheekbones did not protrude as much. All in all, a good day.

Licking his lips and checking his teeth, he exited the building, barely able to refrain from whistling. It was still quite early, and Harry wanted to make the most of the night.

He walked slowly, admiring for once the dozens of tiny shops that lined the crowded alley. He had never really thought about actually going inside any of them, but some looked pretty intriguing. Most were undistinguishable establishments that drew people in with their mystique.

There were bookstores, apothecaries- Harry even noticed a tiny wand shop. He shrugged. It made sense. Where else would the seedy underbelly of the wizarding world get their wands from? Certainly not Ollivanders.

There were a few potion supply stores, Harry noted, the windows so grimy that you could barely see inside. He passed one as he made his way down the Alley and immediately stopped dead in his tracks.

Slowly, as if in slow motion, he allowed his body to turn sideways, followed promptly by his head. He peered inside one such potions store and nearly choked at what he saw. He lifted his dark glasses off his face, just to be sure, though his eyesight as a vampire was superior to any mortal's. Still, sometimes, though rarely, even his eyes deceived him.

No, he was definitely not mistaken or seeing things. Severus Snape was definitely inside that shop, browsing and speaking as if it was a perfectly ordinary thing to be doing.

Imfuckingpossible.

Considering the man was supposed to be dead.

Harry finally closed his mouth after realizing he was gaping like an idiot. His breathing hitched as Snape turned around towards the door to leave. In a flash, Harry was pressed against the side of the tiny shop, breathing harder than he could ever remember.

Peeking around the building, he saw Snape, or what he realized now, could be a polyjuiced Snape, walking away from the building, down the alleyway. Harry's heart was beating frantically in his chest and he felt nerves for the first time in a long time.

He had to know. He spun around the building and followed Snape. He subconsciously reached for his wand, leaving it by his side as he walked a good distance behind his former professor.

He watched as Snape entered a dilapidated building. The windows were either broken or missing on every floor and the door was practically off its hinges. It figures Snape would live here, thought Harry. He quietly stepped inside, blinking at the dust that surrounded him.

He could neither see nor hear Snape and he inwardly cursed at his own foolishness. If this was Snape, he was certainly not one to trifle with. He would have to tread very carefully.

He heard a slight noise overhead. He stepped towards the rickety and rotten stairway and, not seeing anyone ahead of him, crept to the second floor. Wand in hand, he stepped onto the landing, looking around. He saw many doors, presumably former flats. It was just a shell now. He was starting to get a suspiciously uncomfortable feeling being here.

His thoughts got no further as his wand came soundlessly flying out of his hand. He swirled around and stared straight at Snape's unflinching face.

There was no doubt in Harry's mind that this was actually Snape. Apart from the fact that he looked exactly like Snape, he even stood and glared like Snape.

Harry just stared, dumfounded as Snape held hold of his wand, even as he raised his own to Harry's chest.

"Who are you and how dare you follow me?" His gaze was murderous.

Harry inwardly flinched. Leave it to Snape to catch him in the act. Harry cursed at his own stupidity. The man used to be a spy for Merlin's sake; of course he would realize he was being followed.

"I thought you died?" was the first thing Harry blurted out.

Snape's glare didn't waver, nor did his wand. Harry immediately averted his eyes, completely forgetting that Snape was one of the greatest Legilimens out there.

"You reek of death."

Harry's eyes snapped back up at that. He stayed perfectly still, not wanting to cause Snape to accidentally kill him. Harry may be a vampire, but Snape had the upper hand at the moment. He had his wand and his wits.

"Who, or what are you?" Snape repeated, pocketing Harry's wand.

Harry did not immediately answer. He calmed his breathing and pulled his mind to the man standing before him. He was immediately blocked, and he knew he would be.

Snape sneered and pointed his wand.

"Don't!" Shaking, Harry slowly lifted both arms to his side, showing Snape that he had no intention of harming the man. With one hand, he calmly reached for his glasses and pulled them off.

Snape's wand not only wavered, it actually dropped on the dusty floor. Granted, he didn't flinch in fright or back or anything. He just stared, with a look of complete shock on his face.

"Potter." For once, his name on Snape's lips sounded awed and not like a vile curse. Seeing nothing else forthcoming, Harry took a cautious step forward.

This time Snape did step back, though it clearly pained him to do so. Harry paused.

"Professor." He was suddenly flooded with memories of the shrieking shack. He would never forget it for as long as he lived. So much blood, so much damned anguish. He had finally learned the truth and he _saw_ Snape die.

"You died. I saw it. You fucking _died_." The last part was said almost accusingly. How had he never heard about this?

In a low, even voice, Snape said, "It appears that I was not the only one."

Harry flinched. The irony of the situation did not go unnoticed.

"Are you really Snape?" He had to ask.

"Don't be foolish. Are you really Potter?"

Harry was actually impressed with the man's strength. Others would not do so well in the presence of a vampire. He nodded and took another step forward.

As Snape took another back. Harry cringed.

"Jesus, Snape, I'm not going to fucking hurt you or drink your blood, OK? God! Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've even talked to someone this long?" He waved his hands in distress and sighed, looking briefly away. He pursed his lips and turned back to a more composed-looking Snape.

"How did this happen?" Snape finally asked, gesturing to Harry.

Harry suddenly wanted nothing more than to tell the man. Everything. Just pour his heart out. But he couldn't. Some wounds were just still too fresh and this _was_ Snape after all. Their relationship, as it was, was always just a bit unstable. He couldn't share anything that personal with Snape, even if he was slightly excited at the prospect of speaking with a man he long thought dead.

"I really don't wish to discuss that right now." He ground out.

Surprisingly, Snape didn't look affronted, and actually nodded in acknowledgment. He even sighed- Snape sighed! - and approached Harry, who stood stock still, lest he frighten the man again.

They were a mere foot apart and Snape took in Harry's appearance as if he were potion ingredients. Harry, uncaring, took the opportunity to do the same.

Snape appeared to be healthy and for the most part, as he remembered. His inky hair was a touch longer than Harry's, sleeker and with wisps of silver mixed in. His eyes were like deep black pits, unreadable and mysterious. Apart from the graying hair, he did not appear to have aged much. His face was surprisingly smooth, except for deep frown lines on his forehead and a couple of crow's feet.

Harry was about to speak when Snape beat him to it.

"Everyone thinks you're dead you know," Snape sneered. "The celebrations ceased as soon as they began. The wizarding world was in an uproar for months. But you knew that, didn't you?"

Harry swallowed and nodded. "I couldn't go back, not like this."

"Why are you back now?"

Harry shrugged. "I was bored and missed things, from my past." It sounded like a ridiculously petty excuse, but apparently Snape didn't think so.

Snape stepped back and reached down to the floor, picking up his fallen wand. He reached into his pocket and thrust out Harry's wand. Harry took it with a nod of thanks. Snape pocketed his own wand after a moment's hesitation and walked right past Harry.

"Hey wait!" Snape stopped in his tracks.

"Yes?"

"Where are you going?"

Snape frowned. "Home, of course."

Harry frantically thought of a reason to keep Snape here a while longer. There were so many questions running through his mind.

"How did you survive Nagini?"

Snape cocked his head slightly at the question and appeared to nonchalantly think it over.

"A bezoar, of course."

Harry looked dumfounded. "I never saw you-"

"Potter, I was a Potions Master and have had to, on occasion swallow Nagini's venom for the personal pleasure of Voldemort. Do you really think I would not have had an antivenom on me whenever I was in her presence? I was practically immune. What you saw was what I wanted you to see," he finished matter-of-factly.

Harry was still confused as Snape turned to leave yet again.

"You won't tell anyone will you?" It sounded childish but Snape must have heard the desperation as he hesitated at the doorway once more.

"Of course, Potter. I shall head straight to The Prophet right now. I'm sure they'll be thrilled to know that their Boy Wonder and Defeater of Voldemort has turned into a Vampire- and while I'm at it, I may as well announce my return to the wizarding world in a one-on-one interview with Rita Skeeter."

Harry blinked. "Good point."

Snape barely refrained rolling his eyes as he turned away once more.

Harry stepped forward in a panic. "Snape, wait, please!"

Snape stilled and glared back at Harry. "Potter. I have no time for this. I have an extremely sensitive potion that requires my attention and I don't have time to reminisce with you."

But, I just wanted to-"

Snape disapparated on the spot.

"-apologies..." Harry stared morosely at the spot that Snape occupied just a moment ago.

"Damn it!" He was furious and if he were totally honest with himself, just a bit disappointed as well. He really wanted to talk with Snape. At least long enough to apologies. The man deserved it, even if he was being a prick. And there was still so much he wanted to ask him.

He took a deep breath and let it out as a giant sigh. He placed his hands on his hips, staring ahead at nothing. He needed to think and he needed to get out of this building before it collapsed around him. He disapparated to his small flat.

He found Hedwig asleep on her perch. He removed his cloak and flopped down on the bed, exhausted. He glanced at the sleeping owl and immediately had an idea. He sprang off the bed and walked over to the bird.

"Hedwig, wake up girl. I have a task for you." She immediately puffed up in annoyance at being woken up so suddenly.

"Sorry girl, but I need you to do something for me."

He walked over to the small writing desk where he found paper and a quill. Sitting down, he instantly began to write:

S,

Please don't kill my bird if this reaches you. I need to talk with you. I owe you a long overdue apology and you owe me a few minutes of your time. It's only fair after putting me through six years of hell. I just want a few moments. Please.

H.

He re-read the letter. It was vague enough that, if intercepted for whatever reason, no one would be any wiser after having read it. Satisfied, he went to Hedwig and handed her the folded parchment.

"Hedwig, this is going to Severus Snape. Find him for me, please. And if you do, don't come back without a response, unless he threatens you with bodily harm..." he trailed off. He wouldn't put it past Snape to threaten a helpless and innocent bird. He ruffled her head slightly and she flew out the window.

He glanced at the clock and noticed it was close to one in the morning. He frowned and hoped that Hedwig found Snape before he had to sleep. Suddenly a thought struck him. What if Snape wasn't even in England? He could be anywhere. But then why would he return to Knockturn Ally for potion ingredients. Surely other countries had shops like that.

He didn't feel like contemplating Snape right now. He went instead to his large trunk, where he proceeded to run through every single shred of newspaper he could find from the week following Voldemort's demise.

Thankfully he kept them all, just in case. However, he found not one single mention of his former professor. Except for the small instances where Harry and other witnesses from the Final Battle mentioned Snape as an ally and an extremely helpful and loyal Order Member.

There was nothing. He didn't really expect to find anything. The newspapers were more concerned about the missing Harry Potter. He flung the papers away in annoyance. A flap of wings made him look up just as Hedwig flew into the room.

Excited, Harry grabbed the tiny piece of parchment from her grasp and read it with enthusiasm:

P.

You owe me nothing, nor I you. Leave me be.

S.

Harry stared at the writing, frowning. He knew it wouldn't be that easy. It was Snape after all. He liked to make everything difficult and pointless.

He sighed and penned another note.

S.

Please.

H.

He found he had nothing to add. Either Snape said yes, or he didn't. He really did not want to resort to begging, but this was the first time he'd really felt alive and interested in the world. There was a wrong he could right and he would see to it that it happened.

He gave the note to Hedwig who immediately flew off. Harry glanced at the clock. It was closer to three. He sighed and lay on the bed, bored. He felt for the book he dropped off earlier. Sitting up and lighting a few candles, he began to read, even though his mind wasn't fully into it.

At four forty five, Hedwig returned once again. She dropped the note on the bed next to Harry, who snatched it, opening it anxiously.

P.

Why me?

S.

Harry stared desolately at the ceiling and sighed. He _accioed_ parchment and the quill and responded:

I have nobody else to go to.

H.

It sounded pathetic even to Harry, but he was beyond caring. He sent off the note, knowing a response wouldn't reach him until the following night. He left the window open for Hedwig and moved his pillows and blankets to the floor, away from the light of the open window. Making sure the others were shut and warded, he went to sleep.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Pairing: HP/SS

Author's notes: Thank you all for the lovely reviews! I apologies for the wait, it was a busy week and I barely had a moment's free time to update. Reviews are greatly appreciated. For warnings, summary and disclaimer, see Prologue.

* * *

Harry's eyes sprang open like clockwork. He risked a glance at the window and sure enough, it was dark out. Almost immediately, he was hit with hunger pangs. He groaned at the inconvenience, burying his head into the pillow. He suddenly remembered the previous night and shot off the floor in search of his owl.

She was resting on her perch and a folded piece of parchment lay waiting on the bed. Harry reached over and plucked it, greedily reading it over.

P.

House is Unplottable. Meet me Charlie O's at ten. Sharp.

S.

Harry smiled in relief. He practically ran into the bathroom. Disrobing, he stepped into the tub and quickly showered, humming as he did. He tried to ignore his hunger for blood but it was proving impossible. It would be a good idea to eat before meeting with Snape, he mused.

Glancing at the clock as he was getting dressed, he realized he would have plenty of time to eat before meeting Snape. He bit his lip. He didn't really want to kill tonight; he had just eaten the prior night.

Walking back into the bathroom, he risked a peek at the mirror. Appearance wise, it could be worse. His skin was not as gaunt, though it was certainly more pale than it was the other night.

He sighed and contemplated his move. It was still too early to attract any potential meals, and if he waited until later, he may miss meeting Snape. Angry, he resolved to not be so weak. It was just one day- how could he need to feed so soon? The hunger was not that great. It could wait, he decided resolutely.

He was about to tie his messy hair back into a ponytail, but changed his mind last minute. It would cover some of his gauntness. He didn't bother to comb it, he just let it hang loose and shaggy. He really needed to get it cut, but a wand was so unreliable and he couldn't exactly walk into a barber shop. He'd worry about it later.

Tucking his button down shirt into his faded dark denims, he grabbed his cloak and glasses and walked out.

He arrived at Charlie O's five minutes early. He peered inside the window of the fairly new cafe and stared enviously at the happy people inside. For Knockturn Alley, it didn't seem all that bad, he mused.

Snape arrived precisely at ten and walked right up to him, Harry noted, glad that he didn't shirk away from him.

"Potter."

"Snape."

Snape gestured to Harry to follow. They walked to the back of the cafe and stood facing each other.

"There is no suitable establishment for either of us, therefore we must go to wherever you are residing or to my home.

Harry bit his lip. He didn't really want to go to his small shabby flat, but he felt certain Snape would be uncomfortable bringing Harry to his home. He knew Snape and knew the man valued his privacy.

"I'm renting a flat at an inn here. We can go there."

Snape sneered. "How cliché. I will not be seen walking into some remote inn with you, Potter."

Harry nodded, unoffended. He held out his arm.

Snape merely stared at it in disdain. Locking eyes with Harry, he said, "I will take you to my home. But before we go, I must have your solemn word that you will never tell a single soul where I live."

Harry nodded. "I swear it." Snape just raised a brow and this time, held out his own arm. Harry hesitated only a moment before grabbing a hold of it. He heard a soft pop and found himself at an unfamiliar location.

There were trees surrounding them. Large oaks, looming menacingly overhead as Harry walked briskly after Snape. The rough path proved to be a minor problem as Harry embarrassingly stumbled once or twice. Snape had absolutely no issues, and could probably have walked it blindfolded. Harry imagined Snape must have lived out here for a long time.

The path eventually leveled out and a cottage stood amongst the forest. Harry's sharp eyes took in the state of things. Almost instantly he felt the strong wards that blocked his way. He heard Snape mutter something underneath his breath and with a wave of his wand, Harry felt the wards give way and allowed him to pass. As soon as they stood at the door, Snape re-warded the perimeter.

"Where are we?" asked Harry, curious.

"None of your concern. Just be glad you are even here at all," Snape bit back. He opened the door and gestured for Harry to enter first.

"How gallant of you, Snape," Harry joked.

"Do you really think I would turn my back on a vampire?" spat Snape, clearly in no mood for humor.

Harry spun around. "I already told you I'm not going to do anything to you. Give me a little credit will you?"

Harry seethed as he walked inside, not even bothering to mention that Snape's back was turned to him the whole way here anyway.

Snape said nothing in response, just gestured him into a small parlor. Harry didn't know what to expect beforehand but he could not have imagined this. It was so not Snape-like. It was almost cozy.

Two identical sofas sat facing each other. In between them was a shabby-looking trunk that was clearly doubling up as a coffee table, judging by the papers and tea set he saw placed on top of it.

A charming stone fireplace glowed red with heat on the opposite end of the room. Three tiny square windows hung overhead. Harry heard Snape mutter a _Lumos_ and practically every lamp in the room lit up. He blinked automatically from the bright light.

He turned away, only to find Snape staring at him.

"Sorry, my eyes..."

Snape must have understood for he doused a couple of lamps a second later. He gestured towards the sofa.

"Sit."

Harry did, feeling quite nervous all of a sudden. He removed his cloak and his glasses, setting them on the trunk-slash-coffee table.

Snape also removed his cloak and sat down opposite him on the other sofa.

"Tea?" he asked, then immediately winced, briefly glancing away.

"My apologies."

Harry almost laughed at his discomfort. It was funny, even he had to admit. He waved the apology away, saying with a smile, "No, thank you, but you go ahead."

Snape coughed slightly. "Blinky!"

A small house elf popped into existence right in front of Snape. She immediately glanced at Harry and squealed in a panicked voice.

"Blood creature! Blood creature!"

Harry cringed at that. It sounded even worse coming from a little elf.

"Blinky! Cease at once! Potter is my guest here, and you will show him the same respect as me, is that clear?" His glare seemed to frighten her more than Harry did so she mutely nodded.

"Good. Now, fetch me some tea, immediately." The elf disappeared at once, leaving an awkward silence, which stretched on until Blinky reappeared a moment later with tea for Snape. She refrained from looking in Harry's direction.

"Will Master Severus be requiring anything else?" she squeaked.

"No. Go away now." She did. Snape took a swallow of his tea and placed the cup back on its saucer. He leaned forward in the sofa and stared unflinchingly at Harry.

"Let's get one thing straight. You contacted me, not the other way around. If you want something from me, then I require payment. You have questions for me, and I have some for you. Is that clear?" He was clearly brooking no arguments and Harry didn't really feel like getting into one with him.

He nodded once. "It's only fair." He swallowed, feeling his nerves rise up again.

"Good," declared Snape. "I shall go first." Harry rolled his eyes but gestured for Snape to continue.

"How and when were you turned into a vampire?"

Harry expected this, but it still hurt to think about. He sighed and looked at the glowing fireplace.

"After I killed Voldemort, things got a little crazy. A million and one people wanted to talk to me, to congratulate me. It was completely over the top. I had finally done it-_killed_ Him, but for whatever reason, I wasn't feeling all that elated about what happened. I guess it was all too fresh. It hadn't really hit me yet.

"Immediate celebration followed. People partied non-stop while I talked to aurors, to the surviving Order Members, relating things that I had to recall at moment's notice. It was getting utterly exhausting. And before you even say anything Snape, I want you to know that you were always wrong about me. I never wanted the fame, never- and you always thought I was a spoilt brat who got whatever he wanted and loved every minute of it. It's not true. I despised every second of it. And you need to know that." He glared at Snape in defiance.

"Noted." Snape gestured for him to continue.

Harry sat back in the cushions, weary and drained. He could feel his hunger rising again and he mentally willed it away.

"I found a moment to myself and escaped the castle. No one saw me- they were too busy celebrating. And there were so many people there. For a second I was just a nameless face in a massive crowd. It was easier than I thought.

"The first place that came to mind was the Shrieking Shack. It was always on the back of my mind. I cringed realizing that your body was still lying in a heap of blood and we were all celebrating. I was sure no one had gone to check on you or attempt to bring your body back, even two days after the fact.

"I never made it to the Shack. I was attacked halfway to the Whomping Willow. The attack was so fast, I didn't even see who I was fighting. It wasn't much of a fight. I was no match for someone physically stronger than me. And," he blushed then, looking away, "I never had a chance against the mental attack. I wasn't expecting it and I still didn't realize it was a vampire until I saw his eyes. They were so _bright_.

"He practically raped my mind and the next time I woke up, I was as you see me now." His voice was surprisingly steady as he finished. Snape was watching him intently.

"Then what?"

Harry sighed. "I was a mess. I had no clue where I was. My new senses were driving me crazy. I kept hearing things- voices, droplets of water yards away, kept seeing things I knew were not normal. Cracks in the cement in a darkened room, individual threads on my sweater. Everything. Worst of all was the hunger.

"I didn't even realize what it was I was feeling until the door was opened and _he_ came in, carrying a half-dead muggle. The blood that was already on his skin drove me over the edge. I didn't even stop to think, I just went after it. I'll never forget the screams for as long as I live."

He looked away in disgust, but was resolved to finish his morbid tale.

"I wept blood for hours. I cursed and screamed non-stop. The vampire, Aramis, just stared and laughed the whole time."

Snape immediately stiffened in his seat. Harry frowned. "What?"

Snape lowered his head slowly, averting his eyes. "I knew him".

"Who? The vampire?"

Snape nodded. "He was a follower of the Dark- of Voldemort's. He came to a few meetings every so often. More so towards the end. The very sight of him repulsed me more so than Voldemort did at times."

Harry looked away, frowning. He did not wish to appear hurt at that statement.

Snape must have noticed anyway for he pursed his lips and looked pointedly at Harry.

"I was not insinuating anything, Potter. He repulsed me because of his complete lack of control around blood. He would have eviscerated any one of us if Voldemort did not warn him against it. He was vile and weak. Nothing more."

Harry was still not convinced that Snape wasn't repulsed by him, but he nodded in agreement anyway.

"What happened to him?" Snape asked.

Harry looked straight through Snape. "I killed him."

Snape didn't even flinch. In fact, he looked quite pleased.

"Good."

It _was_ a good moment, Harry remembered in fondness.

He grinned broadly and Snape stilled, fixated on something. It took Harry a second to realize it was his own fangs. He snapped his mouth shut and frowned.

"Sorry, I keep forgetting."

"No matter." Snape didn't look exactly uncomfortable, so Harry allowed himself to relax. In fact, he was about to begin on his own barrage of questions when Snape spoke again.

"How did your owl find you then?"

Harry smiled. "I think as a last resort, Hermione wrote a letter and gave it to her, hoping she would take it to me. She did, but Hermione never did get a response. Hedwig has been with me ever since."

"Clever bird."

"Yes."

Snape picked up his now cold tea and took a sip. He placed it back down, distastefully.

"This is a nice place. Where did you find it?"

"Dumbledore."

"Pardon?"

Snape sighed. "As I am sure you have looked at the memories I provided you, I assume we do not need to go over anything regarding Dumbledore and myself."

It wasn't really a question, but Harry nodded anyway. He didn't think he could speak of that anyway.

"This cottage was Dumbledore's summer home that he frequented when he first became Headmaster. Later on he would frequent it less and less. There was just too much to do, too many things to take care of. He would often choose to visit other continents during summer holiday. This cottage became obsolete. You should have seen the state it was in when I stumbled upon it.

"When Dumbledore...forced his plan on me, he in turn gave me this cottage. He thought it was a fair trade; A life for a home. I kill Dumbledore and I get a reward." Snape sneered in disgust and shook his head. "I refused of course. Begging proved futile and this was the last straw.

"I told him I would never accept such a gift for what I would have to do. I argued with him endlessly. I told him that no matter what happened with him, there was a very slim chance that I would survive the war. My position as spy was a precarious one, as you may well imagine. One mistake and we would all be dead.

"He assured me, that no matter what, he would leave this cottage to me. He...even took me here once...during the summer. Before your sixth year. Before that damned ring..." He paused and looked at the flickering flames in the fireplace.

"He told me that this was always a happy place for him. He showed me every room, every pathway to safety. And he mentioned numerous times that it was completely Unplottable and 'quite safe and secluded'. At the time, I didn't particularly care and wondered at why he brought me here. He told me he wanted to share it with me."

Snape fingered his bottom lip in an almost nervous gesture before setting his hand back on his lap.

"Later that year he told me the whole ridiculous plan and well, the rest you know."

"How did you get here after you were bitten?"

Snape smirked. "Albus was more annoying than I ever realized. When I first started to spy on Voldemort, he was extremely unhappy and nervous about it. He fashioned a Portkey in the shape of button that I kept with me always.

"He told me that it would lead me to safety if I were to ever use it. Well, I never needed to use it until I was lying half-dead in the Shrieking Shack. The password to activate the Portkey was Blinky, whom you've already met.

"I did not meet the elf until I was sprawled on the floor in this very room. Apparently, Dumbledore had warned her months prior that if she were to find me here, that I was to be the new Master.

"She was a sobbing mess when I came to. Luckily the bezoar had absorbed most of the venom, and Blinky had stopped the actual bleeding. I apparently managed to tell her that I needed blood restoring potion, and she brought it to me within the hour. I still have no idea where she acquired it, nor did I care at that moment.

Snape paused in his story-telling, and risked a glance at Harry. His eyes revealed nothing, but Harry wasn't fooled. He knew the man must be hurting. Those memories were just as bad, if not worse than Harry's own. It was unfathomable everything that Snape went through. Harry's own tale paled considerably against Snape's.

"I'm so sorry." Harry had to say it.

"I do not need your apology Potter," Snape bit back, though with far less venom than was the norm.

"I know, but I needed to say it. I was a git to you, before, I know that now. I mean, so were you but if anyone had known what you were trying to do, well, I imagine they would have been a bit more sympathetic to you." He laughed slightly. "You are a hard man to like, Snape."

"I try," Snape responded dryly. Harry just smiled, then realized this was the longest conversation he's ever had with his former professor.

"I really am sorry though. Not just for what I did, but the things I said to you. I never meant to call you a coward, Snape. I mean, at that time, it was all I knew, and that wasn't much. I was there you know, under the cloak, on the tower. I saw and heard everything. I couldn't have reacted any other way."

Snape didn't seem to be surprised at the admission. "I figured you were."

"But it only seems right that I apologies."

"Your conscience is clear now?" Snape asked in a dark tone.

Harry stared at Snape and pondered the question. There was no easy answer for the question and it gnawed at him daily.

"No. I don't think that could ever be possible. And, I suspect, that it is the same with you," he added carefully.

Snape looked down at his folded hands in his lap. "I have more to be sorry for."

Harry wanted to ask. He wanted Snape to tell him about his mother. There were a million questions he could think of at the moment and he knew Snape would have concise answers regarding most of them. But something in Snape's manner stopped him from voicing them.

For the first time ever, Snape looked depressed. Harry was suddenly pained at the thought. It almost didn't seem right. Snape was the strong one, the brave one. He shouldn't be looking like that. So...morose. Harry looked away, back at the fireplace.

Talking had helped, but he could feel the hunger building up in him. He shut his eyes and tried to force it away, to no avail. Sitting so close to another human being didn't help matters either.

"What is it?"

Harry's eyes snapped open and for a second he detected a hint of fear in Snape's eyes.

"Nothing," he said in a hoarse voice.

"You did not feed tonight." Snape, ever perceptive.

"No. I-no," he finished dumbly. He needed to reassure Snape though. "I'm fine. I have gone as much as four days without feeding. It's only been one. And a half," he added with a smile.

Snape raised a brow. "I see."

All of a sudden, Harry needed for Snape to see him as a decent person, not as some foul creature.

"There are plenty of Death Eaters still around you know..."

Snape slowly nodded as if to say 'and your point is?'

"And other criminals. Murderers, rapists. They're everywhere, in every town. They're easy to spot."

Snape just stared.

"I'm not a murderer, Snape. I...need to feed, but I don't just randomly-"

"Potter. You do not need to justify your existence to me. I know exactly what you are and what you are not."

Harry just stared, incredulous. He couldn't tell if Snape had just complimented him or reassured him. Maybe both. He was just glad he didn't make Snape nervous anymore.

"Thanks, Snape. That's-I really appreciate that." He couldn't really tell Snape how much he meant that. Couldn't tell him what it meant to Harry to just be here, sitting and casually talking with someone again. There were not enough words.

He looked down at his hands. In the dim lighting they appeared translucent, the veins, dark blue and winding, so easily visible. He could practically see the blood throbbing through them. He looked up to find Snape watching him intently, his eyes, bottomless black pits that seared through Harry's being.

He swallowed reflexively, clenching his parched throat. He needed to feed, right now. He immediately stood up, startling Snape.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. I need...I need to go."

He quickly grabbed his cloak and glasses and stormed to the front door, banging it open. He didn't spare Snape another glance as he ran past the wards, into the dark forest, apparating as soon as he was able to.

He didn't even notice that Snape never tried to stop him.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Pairing: HP/SS

Author's notes: Thanks again to everyone that reviewed the last chapter. For the lone, unsigned review, I have posted a response at the bottom! I was lucky to be able to get this one up fairly quickly. Enjoy! For warnings, summary and disclaimer, see Prologue.

* * *

A shabby-looking barn owl was perched next to Hedwig when Harry returned to his flat. Curious, he approached it, noticing the small rolled up parchment the bird was holding.

He reached forward and gingerly retrieved it from the content owl. Harry glanced at Hedwig to see if she minded at all. She appeared not to care that a strange bird was sitting next to her. Shrugging, he unfolded the piece of paper. Something that resembled an antique paper clip fell out as he unraveled the parchment, clinking to the floor. Frowning, he started to read the note.

P.

As you had to leave so abruptly, I have taken the liberty to create a Portkey which will take you back to my home. This is not an invitation by any means, but I imagine you may have more questions, and I certainly have not finished with mine. Regarding the Portkey; you already know the password,

S.

Harry glanced up, letting out the breath he didn't even realize he was holding. He felt lightheaded and slightly woozy, but he imagined it was from the grotesquely quick meal he just had. A petty thief, unarmed though. Harry shut his eyes in disgust. The fresh blood coursing through his veins did help though. He felt completely refreshed.

Unfortunately, it was nearing dawn. He needed his rest. He threw a snack to Hedwig and one to the Snape's owl, shooing him outside. He locked the window, and blocked out all potential light.

He flopped down on the bed, raking a hand through his mussed up hair. He could barely believe his lack of control at Snape's house. He groaned in annoyance. If he hadn't escaped when he had...Well, he really didn't know what he would have done. But he was sure Snape would not have been too happy about it.

He couldn't believe Snape still wanted to speak with him. Perhaps the man was as lonely as he was. His heart warmed at the thought. Snape still wanted to see him. He smiled and fell asleep before he was even aware of it.

He awoke and immediately looked at the clock. It was well past eight. Swearing for sleeping in so late, he jumped off the bed and went to shower.

Feeling refreshed and clean, he dressed quickly. He brushed his hair and tied it back, frowning as some strands came loose anyway. It didn't look that bad, he thought so he grabbed his cloak, foregoing the glasses, and walked over to the table.

He aimed his wand at the window, un-warding and opening it for Hedwig, who appeared immensely pleased. Grabbing the tiny piece of metal from the table, he whispered, 'Blinky' and felt the oh-so-familiar tug at his navel.

He appeared in Snape's parlor once more. He didn't see or hear anyone. For good measure he even called out Snape's name. Frowning when no response came, he stepped out of the parlor and decided to have a look around.

He walked first into a small but impeccably clean kitchen. A tiny round table stood against the wall near a window. One chair stood next to it. For some reason, that deeply bothered Harry. He saw an old-fashion stove and a small lit brick fireplace. A small cauldron was boiling inside.

The walls were wallpapered with an old-fashion flowery print. He smirked at that. Somehow, he didn't think that marigolds and poppies were exactly to Snape's tastes. But then again, it was Dumbledore's. Maybe Snape felt bad about changing anything.

A door to what he assumed was the back yard stood slightly ajar so Harry walked over to see if maybe Snape was outside. The biting cold and wind hit him immediately, but it was more of a shock than an actual factor, as he really didn't feel the deep chill anymore. With his brilliant nocturnal gaze, he noticed a rather impressive herb and vegetable garden in one direction and a small chicken coop in another.

"Snape?"

Nothing.

Frowning, he decided to go back inside and wait for him. It was after all, only 10, so maybe Snape was out.

He walked back into the kitchen, shutting the door. He inspected the rest of the downstairs, just to make sure. He paused at a stairwell. He looked up and wondered if he should go up. He assumed Snape's bedroom was upstairs, and he didn't want to go snooping up there. But, Snape _could_ be up there. Maybe even very ill or something. Not likely, but Harry decided to take a quick peek.

Swiftly and silently jumping to the top landing, he walked past all of the ajar doors, quickly poking his head into each of the rooms. No Snape.

Giving up, he retired to the parlor, sinking into the couch cushions. Suddenly, a thought sprang to mind. Though he wasn't sure if he should try it...

"Blinky!"

Immediately, the tiny house elf appeared, looking terrified.

"Master Potter requires something?" she asked, her voice shaking at every syllable.

Harry wondered at her calling him master. "I was wondering if you knew where Prof- Master Snape was?"

"Blinky is knowing, sir. Master Snape is in the forest. Master Snape tells Blinky he is going for potion's ingredients."

"Ah. Thank you Blinky, I shall just wait here until he returns."

The elf immediately popped out of existence. Harry couldn't help but laugh.

After ten minutes of waiting, Harry was completely bored. He leaned towards the trunk where a small pile of uninteresting looking magazines lay. He picked one up and sure enough it was about potions. He threw it back down, rummaging around some more. He was absolutely shocked to pick up the latest Witch Weekly. He found it utterly hilarious that Snape of all people would read such a thing.

"Something amusing, Potter?"

Damn it! He hated when he did that!

"Uh, Hi, Snape. I was um, waiting and well-"

"Enough. My ears cannot handle Potter-Speak."

Harry blushed, looking away. "Why do you have this?" he asked, changing the subject. Snape didn't look remotely embarrassed or uncomfortable with Harry knowing he read Witch Weekly.

"I like to be on top of what is going on in the wizarding world, as I am not really a part of it any longer. I like to be, in the know, if you will.

"Yea, but this is not the most reliable source of information, Snape. Even the Prophet is more fact-based.

Snape casually threw his cloak on the couch and placed a basket of something carefully on the floor.

"You would be surprised, Potter, at what is fact and what isn't. You must learn to read between the lines sometimes." After a moment's contemplation, Snape grabbed the basket off the floor and went to the kitchen with it. Harry followed.

It was indeed potions ingredients that Snape had collected. He was arranging them even as Harry walked into the kitchen. Snape didn't look up.

"I see you got my note."

Harry nodded. "Yes. And, thanks. For the note, that is."

Snape actually smirked. "There was no need to run off as you did. I would have understood. I am aware of the needs of vampires, as you know.

"Because you had to be around them. Or Aramis anyway."

Snape nodded.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to leave like that. It was quite rude. Honestly, after that, I didn't think you'd ever want to see me again." He didn't look at Snape as he spoke, fearing the man's reaction.

"You are one of the most powerful creatures on this earth Potter, magically and physically. Why are you so insecure?"

If it weren't for Snape's curious tone, Harry would have thought the man was mocking him. He was actually surprised at Snape's assessment of him.

"I don't know. Maybe because I am as you say, 'a creature.' Maybe because I've had no one to talk to for the past seven years. Maybe because I am tired of living like this." He was starting to feel depressed, which was never good. He found his thirst for blood only increased with his moody countenance.

Snape stopped what he was doing and stared at Harry, almost as if seeing him for the very first time. "It isn't who or what we are that defines us, Potter; it's how we choose to continue living our lives, whatever they may be. You can either choose to crawl out of your hole and face the sun in the morning, or you can shut the fuck up and go to parlor and wait for me."

Harry stood still, eyes flashing in surprise, then blushed scarlet before speaking, "You sound like Dumbledore, you know. Except for that last part." He actually did turn around and leave the room, missing the small smile on Snape's face.

"Indeed, Mr. Potter."

Snape did not keep Harry waiting that long. He settled across from him once more, a cup of tea in hand.

"Where have you been living? These past seven years."

Harry blinked at the abrupt line of questioning.

"Um. Well, a few places. Aramis first took me to Wales. I had never been there before and I had no clue where I was. I smelled the ocean constantly from where I was being held. After I...disposed of Aramis, I stayed in Wales for a while. I was too scared to really go anywhere alone. It took me a while to figure out I was even in Wales. I probably stayed there for two months.

"I apparated from there to the only other place I could think of, which was Surrey. I certainly didn't go back to my Aunt and Uncle's, but I needed a spot to apparate to that I knew of. I didn't even think to go anywhere near Hogwarts."

Snape interrupted him.

"Potter, you do realize that if you did go to Hogwarts, that Minerva would have tried to help you? Even Hagrid. They would never have turned you away."

Harry appeared pained at hearing that. "I...couldn't. You don't understand. I barely knew what I was. Our knowledge of vampires from Hogwarts was not sufficient enough and I couldn't exactly go into a bookstore and pick up a book on them either. I just couldn't ask anyone from my past for help. It would have been too appalling.

"Could you imagine, even now if Ron or Hermione knew what I was? They would never be able to handle that."

"I think you underestimate your friends, or at least Miss Granger. She was, as I remember, most understanding and sympathetic. She would not have turned against you, I am sure of it."

"Well, I'm sure she'll be glad to hear about your vote of confidence, but, well, what good would it do? OK, so they know. Now what? What happens next? It's not like I can rejoin society or anything like that. I'm a lethal forbidden creature, remember? If anyone even knew that they were harboring a vampire, they would certainly get into major trouble. I can't bear to think of that."

"What about Lupin?"

Harry blinked. "Remus? What about him?"

Snape looked at Harry as he did back in school. "He of all people would know what you are going through. Why did you never contact him?"

Harry dropped his head. "I couldn't. He has a family now. It wouldn't be right."

"You know that Tonks is dead?"

Harry's head snapped up at that. "What? No! When?"

"About three years ago. Auror accident. Most unfortunate. It was written in the prophet, about eight pages in, just a tiny blurb really. Apparently, the wife of a werewolf does not merit a proper death announcement."

Harry felt sick. He felt even worse for Remus. How did he survive that? First Harry's parents, then Sirius, then his wife. He dropped his head in his hands.

"Fuck," he whispered.

"I am certain," Snape went on in a surprisingly gentle tone, "that if you were to pay Lupin a visit, he would not only be glad to see you, but he would certainly sympathies with your predicament. You know this. Someone like him would not be so hypocritical. I admit, we were not and never will be friends, but Lupin is probably the first person I would go to, if I ever needed help."

Harry was surprised and confused at that. "Why? Why him?"

"Because I would be certain of his discretion. I have no doubt in my mind."

Harry appeared to think it over. "It would be difficult."

"You have faced and defeated Voldemort, on more than one occasion. This should be a walk in the park for you, Potter. This is Lupin, remember."

Harry smiled, fondly. The idea Snape planted in his mind was growing. Yes, he would kill to see Remus again. He frowned at his own play on words. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and noticed Snape watching him intently.

"Thank you, Snape. I really appreciate all this."

Snape nodded once and sipped his tea.

"May I ask you something?" Harry said.

A shrug. "That was the arrangement, I believe."

Harry bit his lip. "It's about my mom."

Snape's expression immediately changed, becoming more guarded. He didn't refuse however so Harry took that as good sign.

"Knowing her as you did, do you think-if she saw me like this now-do you think she would...hate me?" The thought of what his parents would think haunted him every time he dreamt.

Snape looked surprised at the question. He placed the empty teacup and saucer on the trunk in front of him.

"You should know this already. From my experience with her...I have no doubt that absolutely nothing would change regarding you. She would have...loved you unconditionally. And I suppose your father as well," he finished disdainfully.

Harry wasn't even aware of the tears until he felt the drop fall on his hand. He quickly wiped at his eyes, head down. He couldn't remember the last time he wept. And one night with Snape turned him into a slobbering mess. Well, maybe that was a slight exaggeration, but it was still Snape's fault.

He dared a peek in Snape's direction, only to find the man staring off at the fireplace.

Harry cleared his throat. "So, do you know where Remus lives now?"

Snape turned back to Harry. "Yes. And so do you."

Harry frowned, shocked. "Grimmauld Place?" At Snape's nod, he went on. "But why? I mean, not that I care; I'm actually glad it's getting put to use, but I thought he had a home?"

"He did, sort of. The original home was actually Tonks's. Even though his name was added to the deed, after her death, Lupin was deemed unfit to live there. You see, Werewolves cannot own property, legally. Miss Granger gallantly tried to appeal the conviction but to no avail.

"Remember, Voldemort had werewolves too and one person's actions did not, in the eyes of many, excuse the actions of all the others. Lupin had no choice but to leave. Minerva mentioned Grimmauld Place and he has been there ever since. Him and his son."

Harry was practically shaking with rage. The injustice of it all was appalling. How dare they treat Remus that way? After all he'd done for the Order, for the war. Both wars! Harry felt sick, and angry. The teacup in front of him suddenly shattered, sending thousands of pieces flying over both Harry and Snape.

"Shit! Damn it, sorry Snape. I hope that wasn't an antique or anything." He tried whisking pieces of glass out of his hair.

"Everything here was originally Albus's, so yes, I imagine 'antique' is a correct assessment.

Harry looked up at Snape with brows raised. "Did you just make a joke?"

Snape looked affronted. "Certainly not." He waved his wand and the mess disappeared. "Do be more careful, Potter, I only have five of those left now."

"Sorry."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Come here."

"What?"

"You have pointy shards of porcelain in your bird's nest. Come here so that I may dispense of them."

Harry blinked. "Oh. Um, alright."

He stood just as Snape did. He turned around so that his back was to Snape. A second later, he felt his tie pulled loose, his hair spilling out of its confine. Then he felt fingers, threading through his strands, ever so gently.

Harry's eyes were like saucers and he was extremely glad that Snape couldn't see his face. He felt fingers brush against his scalp slightly, sending spasms of pleasure rippling down his neck and shoulders.

_What the fuck?_

He swallowed as Snape continued his inspection. He heard little clinks as pieces of glass came tumbling out of his hair, landing on the hardwoods. He paid no attention to that. His entire mind was focused on the ministrations that Snape was performing.

For some inexplicable reason, he was getting turned on by Snape's actions.

_Get a grip Harry! It's just Snape._

"Um, are you done yet?" His voice sounded slightly nervous, even to him.

"Almost."

More threading followed and Harry felt as if his entire scalp was getting a massage. He really didn't imagine anything like this happening when he went to visit Snape tonight.

"Will you visit Lupin?" Snape suddenly asked, never stopping his actions.

Harry found his mind wandering to most inconvenient thoughts and he had to recall what Snape just asked him.

"Oh, um, yea. Yes."

"Good."

_God was Snape's voice ever this...nice?"_

Finally, after three torturous minutes, Snape handed the hair tie back to Harry, who took it, averting Snape's eyes. He quickly tied his hair back up, slightly disappointed with the lack of fingers kneading his head.

Snape spelled the rest of the glass away and sat back down on the sofa. Harry followed, after a breath.

Snape's expression was unreadable as he regarded Harry. Suddenly claustrophobic, Harry searched his mind for something to say. The silence was killing him.

"I, uh, guess no time like the present. To visit Remus, that is." He suddenly needed to get the hell out of there.

"It is rather late. Perhaps tomorrow evening would be better?"

Harry looked over at the mantle clock. Damn! It was almost three! He didn't even realize they had been speaking that long.

"Shit! Snape, I'm sorry for having stayed so late. You're probably tired. I'm gonna get going. And uh, thanks again, for everything. I may stop at Grimmauld Place tomorrow. So um, I'm not sure when I'll see you next." He stopped suddenly and considered something.

"But I can still see you, right? Another night, perhaps?" He hoped he didn't sound so desperate.

Snape just reached over and picked up the forgotten little metal paperclip, throwing it at Harry.

"You remember the password."

Harry grinned. "Yes. Thanks. I better go."

Snape just nodded.

"G'night."

"Good night, Mister Potter."

Harry apparated back to his flat. He carefully put the rusty paperclip away in a safe place and after warding everything, flopped down on the bed. He stared up at the yellowed ceiling without blinking, completely lost in thought. He closed his eyes just as soon as the sun was rising.

Before he fell into an oblivious dream, he threaded his fingers lazily through his hair. A sudden thought sprung forward in his mind: That was by far the most erotic thing Harry had ever experienced.

* * *

Ch.5 Preview:

_"Is it really you, Harry?"_

_Harry could only nod._

_"We thought you were dead..."_

_"I am dead, Remus. I died seven years ago."_

* * *

tonks*is*cool -Thank you for your review and for being so perceptive. Harry, like all vampires (in my universe)needs blood to live but he chooses whose life to take. That is why he only goes after people he knows are evil or guilty of a crime, etc. I suppose he can eat animal blood, but I don't think that will sustain him like human blood can. Harry can also get into another human's mind, though that is brought on by his vampire powers. He is both wizard and vampire and therefore still has his magical ability as well as his supernatural powers. I am sort of borrowing from the great Anne Rice here. Her vampires, while feeding especially, were able to 'see' inside their victim's mind and could feel what they were going through. I guess in my univere it is sort of the same. He has to concentrate though, unlike Edward Cullen, who makes it seem so easy and instinctual. I could go on and on, but I'm sure some more of your questions will be answered later on in the fic. If you have any more though, or need clarification on something, I will certainly attempt to answer your questions. Thanks for the nice long review!


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Pairing: HP/SS

Author's notes: Would have liked to get this out sooner, but couldn't be helped. Please enjoy! Two unsigned review responses at the end! For warnings, summary and disclaimer, see Prologue.

* * *

Harry's hand visibly shook as he inched it towards the grotesque-looking door knock, shaped into a house elf's head. For the umpteenth time that night, he questioned his frame of mind. Was he really going to knock on Remus's door? And why was he going to do that again?

His fingers curled around the door knock, slowly lifting it off its placement. It protested with a squeak, probably from lack of use. Holding his breath, he knocked three times. He took a couple of steps away from the door, just in case he needed to dissaparate for whatever reason.

He put his hands in his pant pockets and bit his lip in worry. If he were still mortal, he'd be sweating bullets by now. He raked one hand through his hair, for good measure. After what seemed like hours, he heard a slight noise and watched as the giant old door slowly creaked open.

Remus Lupin stood behind the thresh-hold with one hand on the door knob, while the other held his wand, pointed straight at Harry. Even in the darkness, Harry could see the man's confusion. He was certain that very few people actually visited him.

"Who are you and how do you know of this place?" His voice was steady but Harry could detect an inkling of nervousness. He slowly reached up to his face, and removed the dark glasses, starting straight at the werewolf.

"Dear god."

"Hi, Remus." He tried for a smile but failed.

Remus just shook his head back and forth, his eyes unnaturally wide and bright with fear.

"It's not possible..." His wand had wavered, falling to his side as he struggled to come to terms with what he was seeing.

"You- you're a- oh my god."

Harry couldn't bear to see his old friend looking at him so. He knew it would be this way. The man was positively disgusted. He swallowed through a lump in his throat and started to turn away. He needed to get the fuck out of there.

"I'm sorry, Remus..." he trailed off, fully intending to apparate right then and there.

"No! Wait Harry, don't leave!" Remus sounded panicked and actually stepped outside the house to get to him. Harry didn't move, didn't dare to. Remus was so close he could touch him if he wished.

His mouth hung wide open as he took in Harry. He knew, he must have. Must have smelled it on him; the unnatural scent of blood and death. He could see his eyes, his skin. They were inches apart now and Harry still hadn't budged. He was at a loss for words and he wouldn't even know where to begin.

Before his mind could process thought, Remus grabbed him pushing him against his chest. Harry was so shocked, he stiffened in response, all his instincts in caution mode.

A moan that sounded like a pained animal escaped Remus as he held onto Harry. Quiet sobbing, followed by incoherent sentences soon burst out. His shock finally dissipated, Harry tensely wove his arms around his friend's back. He squeezed so hard, he feared he might actually crush Remus, but the man didn't seem to mind.

When they finally parted, Harry was not surprised to feel wetness on his cheeks as well. His eyes were blurry and his breathing was becoming harder and harder to take. He didn't even notice when Remus led him inside, closing the door behind them.

Wiping his eyes, he regarded Remus. The man had obviously aged. Though seven years past since he last laid eyes on the man, it appeared as if time had not been kind to him. Sadly, Harry realized, that was usually the case in regards to the werewolf.

The soft short hair was completely streaked with grey and there were a few more wrinkles than Harry remembered. He appeared slightly thinner as well as his clothing drooped slightly on his figure.

His eyes though, the fierce blue eyes of the wolf; they remained the same. Clear and understanding and gentle, yet at the same time, strong and determined. Harry missed them.

"Is it really you, Harry?"

Harry could only nod.

"We thought you were dead..."

"I am dead, Remus. I died seven years ago."

Remus looked pained. "How did this happen?" he asked softly.

Harry sighed. He had already laid out his heart to Snape and he didn't think he could do it again, so soon. But he knew Remus deserved to know. That's why he had come here isn't it? He wanted Remus to know the truth. He wanted to believe Snape when he told him that Remus would sympathies with him- would know what to do. He needed to believe that.

"Can we sit somewhere maybe?"

"Of course. Come." Remus immediately led Harry into the library, which looked almost the same as he remembered. He found himself smiling at all the memories he had there. Then he thought of Sirius and his smile instantly died.

They each took a seat on the couch, next to each other. Harry was not used to all the closeness, but he found he relished it. He was just glad Remus wasn't running away in fear.

Harry found himself rapidly blinking. The room was far too bright for his eyes with all the lamps burning and the fireplace on top of that.

"Remus, would you mind dousing some of these lamps? They are hurting my eyes."

"Oh!" Remus immediately sprang to his feet and began defusing all the lamps closest to the couch.

"Thank you." He leaned back in his seat just as Remus sat back down. He stared at Harry with mixed expressions. Harry just smiled back.

"I'm sorry for staring, Harry. But... I still can't believe you're here. I feel like I'm dreaming. I don't even know where to begin."

"I shall like to tell you my story, Remus, if that is alright with you? Perhaps then you will understand everything better, and understand why I never came to see you, or anyone before. Especially since I didn't know whether I'd be thrown out on my ass or cursed to death."

"Harry, listen to me very carefully. Whatever you have to say to me, or whatever it is you think I would do to you, just stop thinking it. I could and would never think badly of you, no matter what. Do you understand?"

Harry could only nod for the lump in his throat was proving hard to swallow. He allowed a moment before beginning.

He re-told his tale, as he did for Snape, from beginning to end. Remus never interrupted him or asked questions. He listened with intensity and understanding and by the end of it, appeared on the verge of breaking down again.

"Oh, Harry."

"I can't even begin to imagine..." Remus looked away towards the fireplace, seemingly at a loss for words.

"I'm fine, Remus. But that's why I came to you. I figured you of all people would understand." He knew that bringing up the fact that Remus was a werewolf was a touchy and sensitive subject but Remus did not seem to mind.

"Indeed, Harry." He sighed as he slowly nodded. "However, I am only afflicted with my curse one day out of the month, where as you must live a vampire life daily. God, what I would not give to get my hands on that vampire scum."

"It's alright, Remus. I'm surviving."

Remus gave him a sad sort of smile as he sighed once more. A thought suddenly struck Harry and he mentally kicked himself for not saying anything sooner.

"Remus, I'm so sorry about Tonks. I can't believe what they did to you."

A pained wistful expression clouded Remus's face briefly before schooling his features again.

"Thank you, Harry. It has been very lonely indeed without her. I do have Teddy of course, but I do miss her. She always managed to cheer me up. All I'd have to do is look at her and I'd be smiling. You remember, of course."

Harry nodded. "Those damn pricks. I can't believe they took away your home." He was still seething about that.

"It is no matter. As long as I have Teddy, we will always have a home. Though I should have liked to remain in the home Tonks and I got married in."

Harry couldn't bear to see Remus looking so forlorn. He reached over and placed his cool hand on Remus's shoulder. The werewolf acknowledged the gesture with a small smile.

"I am glad Grimmauld Place is getting put to good use, at least. It may not be your first choice, but it's your home now Remus, for as long as you want it to be."

Remus turned his full attention to Harry. "Thank you, Harry. Of course everything is still under your name and", he sighed then, "always will be, looks like."

"I don't want it, never did. But I'm glad one of us can use it at least."

He stood up then, his behind sore from all the sitting. He walked over to the fireplace mantle and smiled at what he saw. Moving portraits littered the mantle, almost covering the entire top.

He saw his parents with Sirius, one of Sirius with Remus, even Harry with Ron and Hermione. He saw a small framed oval portrait of Remus and Tonks on what looked to be their wedding day. There was one of a tiny baby, who he assumed was Teddy. Everyone looked so happy in the pictures. A voice suddenly cut through his musings.

"Harry. How did you know where to find me?"

Harry froze. He had purposely left out every single mention of Snape during their chat. He did not want to implicate the man. It was not his place. But he stupidly never bothered to come up with an explanation regarding where he retrieved all these facts. But then again, how did Snape?

"The Prophet. I keep up you know."

A pause.

"You always were a terrible liar, Harry."

Cringing, Harry turned to face Remus, who remained on the sofa, looking decidedly curious.

"I can't say, Remus, I'm sorry. It's not my place. Please leave it at that?"

Remus regarded Harry for a moment before nodding.

"Very well. It doesn't matter anyway. I'm just glad you're here."

"Me too, Remus."

A sudden 'pop' sound filled the room and a withered, ancient-looking house elf appeared with a tray of tea and scones.

"Kreature?" Harry was flabbergasted that the elf was still livng.

Said house elf looked up at Harry with squinty eyes. Harry feared his reaction for a moment, remembering Snape's house elf. Kreature surprised him.

"M-master Harry?" he asked, incredulous.

"Yes...how are you Kreature?"

"Kreature is very well, Master Harry sir. He is most glad to be seeing you. Most glad." He set the tray in front of Remus and gave his full attention to Harry. "Kreature was most grieved when Master Harry went away." He looked to be on the verge of tears.

"I'm sorry to have, uh, grieved you Kreature. It was not my intention."

"But Master Harry is back now?" he asked in a hopeful voice.

Harry did not know how to answer that. Luckily, Remus stepped in.

"Where are you staying Harry?"

"Um, at an inn in Knockturn." Remus promptly stood, walking over to where Harry was.

"I won't have it. You must come and stay here with Teddy and me."

Harry was shocked. "I can't do that Remus! Look at me!"

Remus grabbed Harry's shoulders, practically shaking him. "I am looking at you, Harry. Do you know what I see? I see an extremely handsome young man who feels that he has nobody in this world. No matter what evil has befallen you Harry, inside, you are still that same person that I knew all those years ago. Nothing can change that."

Harry's eyes were welling up. Embarrassed, he tried to will away his tears, but he could not but help being touched at what Remus was saying.

"How can this work, Remus? How?"

"We'll make it work. There is no reason you should not stay here. This house is big enough for twenty people. And...I can't lose you again Harry. I'm afraid that if you walk out that door, I may never see you again."

Something in Remus's voice made Harry relent. Perhaps it was a twinge of loneliness that he heard, or the fact that Remus sounded as if Harry were deserting him, but whatever it was shut Harry's protests up indefinitely.

"Alright. I'll stay. For a little while anyway."

Harry ended up squashed in Remus's arms again. They ended their hug when they heard a sniffling sound. Kreature it seemed, was also glad that his Master Harry was staying. He was wiping his nose on his ragged towel, his eyes dropping fat globs of tears on the floor.

Harry did tell Remus that he needed to return to his flat to gather his belongings and Hedwig.

"I'll be back in one hour Remus, I promise."

Sure enough, he returned to the flat, easily packed his things, wrote a short letter to Snape letting him know where he was going to be, and apparated back to Grimmauld Place, all in time before dawn.

* * *

_tonks*is*cool-_ Thanks again for your review. Yes, I think both Harry and Snape have changed immensely since school. Snape isn't under pressure anymore from anyone or anything, so he, I suppose is able to feel more relaxed. When I re-read the chapter afterwards, I thought it may come off as overly friendly, but decided to leave it as is because after all, it's not like they are complete strangers or anything. Snape was in charge of Harry's protection for years so it is only natural for him to come to his aid again, no matter how small.

I hope you like Remus and Harry's interaction. I realize in alot of fiction, Vampires and Werewolves are enemies, but not so in my case. I didn't want to change their personalities-to me, they will always be just Remus and Harry, no matter that they are both afflicted with a terrible curse.

Sorry I can't respond to you privately, but I guess if you're not signed in, it won't let you. Oh well! Enjoy!

_Snarky B_- Glad you like it so far! Yes, so many people resonded to me about the whole they-thought-Snape-was-the-vampire-thing. Glad I could surprise some of you :) Please enjoy the next chapter.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Pairing: HP/SS

Author's notes: Thank you all very much for the reviews! I'm sorry I can't respond individually this time- I'm going away for a few days. But it's great, as always, to read them. :) As I have mentioned prior, my vampires have their own traits, though for the most part, they are still very much like many other vampires in other fictions. Also, I did borrow a specific vampire trait from the great Anne Rice. I wonder if anyone has noticed? It will be mentioned in the fic again… Sorry for the length, but at least I was able to put it much much quicker! Please enjoy! For warnings, summary and disclaimer, see Prologue.

* * *

Harry opened his eyes to darkness and found himself tensing for the second night in a row. Remembering where he was, he calmed his breathing and sat up in his giant four poster bed, throwing the covers off. He pulled back the thick canopy and padded over to his private bathroom. He clicked on the lights-thank god for electricity- and glanced at his reflection in the large mirror. Immediately he noticed something he did not like.

His features had thinned practically overnight and he once again, looked extremely gaunt and malnourished. Groaning, he splashed some cold water on his face and some on his hair, raking his fingers roughly through.

Shutting the tap, he went back to the bedroom and hastily threw some clothing on. Quickly tying his hair back, he left his room and went downstairs.

He found Remus in the kitchen, making tea. The smell of the burning leaves churned his stomach and he knew he needed to get out of the house.

"Remus."

The werewolf turned at the sound, not hearing Harry enter the room. He immediately took in Harry's appearance. Before he could say anything, Harry cut him off.

"Remus, I need to feed. And now. I can't have Teddy seeing me like this."

Remus regretfully nodded in understanding.

"Of course, Harry."

Harry spun around and headed for the door. Stepping out onto the stoop, he got as far as he needed to apparate and soon found himself back in Knockturn Alley.

The smell of blood immediately assaulted his senses. He was practically salivating before he found his intended victim. He reached into the man's mind easily and satisfied at what he saw, went after him.

Unfortunately for Harry, there were aurors in the vicinity for whatever reason, and one of them noticed him. If caution wasn't a second nature to Harry, he would never have seen the spell that shot right at him. He ducked it, glaring at whoever cast it. A female auror, by the looks of it.

"Vampire! Vampire!"

Harry hissed in frustration as more aurors appeared at the scene, each one throwing curse after curse in his direction. People were screaming all around him and he couldn't stop to apparate as it was far too crowded. He cursed and pushed people out of his way as he heard more spells being fired at him.

At one point, he could have sworn he saw a jet of green whiz past his head. Cursing at the foolishness of the aurors, he managed to squeeze by most of the crowd and into a little used alleyway, no bigger than the width of a car.

A hand suddenly grabbed him and pulled him further inside. Harry immediately went for his wand but the voice that hissed at him stopped him cold.

"Stay still, Potter!"

"Snape?"

More lights flashed by him and just as sudden, it was all quiet. He opened his eyes and found himself in front of Snape's cottage. He released a breath, just as soon as Snape released his arm.

"Potter, honestly, how many times must I save your hide?" He threw his door open and marched inside. Harry followed, feeling like a child once more.

Snape was clearly exasperated as he faced Harry. He had his hands on his hips and Harry was once again reminded of his school days. He sighed. Some things just never change.

"I'm sorry, Snape. I didn't realize there would be that many aurors there. I needed to feed."

"And now, they'll be patrolling that Alleyway for many a week to come. You are lucky nobody recognized you." He plunked down on his sofa, looking perturbed and slightly exhausted.

"Recognize me? Look at me, Snape! _I_ don't even recognize me." He huffed in frustration. He had been so close. He could still smell that man's fear. Smell his deliciously tainted blood. He swallowed, feeling parched and extremely hungry.

Snape did look at him. He scanned Harry's body up and down, finally resting on his face. In a much softer, but perturbed voice, he asked, "Where will you feed now?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe Hogsmeade. Or I can try another town."

"Potter, do you think that they haven't thought of that? I am sure security at Hogsmeade and the neighboring towns have been put on alert. Nobody likes a loose Vampire. You know this."

It was Harry's turn to sit, looking just as dejected. The hunger was eating at him, fucking with his mind. If he did not feed, it would only get worse and he would turn hostile.

Snape suddenly stood and walked over to where Harry was sitting. Harry looked up at the stern-looking man, towering over him. After a brief moment of hesitation, Snape unbuttoned his shirt sleeve and rolled it up to his elbow, exposing his wrist. He said not a word but Harry immediately blanched.

He jumped to his feet, eyes flashing in Snape's direction.

"Are you mad?"

"You need to feed." For a man about to offer his blood to a vampire, Harry thought he sounded quite sincere.

"And I will. But not from you."

Snape continued to stand there, arm extended. Harry violently shook his head, even as his eyes caught sight of the bulging vein in the pale wrist.

Harry's pupils dilated and his mind grew hazy. He could hear his own heartbeat, rapidly thumping in his chest. He bared his fangs at the open invitation, just there, within reach. He felt no fear or repulsion coming from the man calmly standing there.

Emerald eyes flickered to black ones. A small nod followed. Harry knew he was being weak, but he found himself reaching for the bare wrist, his fingers wrapping around the flesh. With one hand he squeezed- hard, on Snape's upper wrist, drawing all the blood to the inviting vein.

With the other hand, he bent back Snape's hand, exposing only the unblemished wrist. He didn't dare look at Snape's eyes as he lowered his lips to the proffered skin.

He felt his fangs extending slightly and as cleanly as he possibly could, he bit through the skin, instantly piercing the vein. He heard Snape hiss slightly, but he never budged or flinched. Harry oddly found himself admiring the man for his resolve.

As soon as the blood hit his tongue, he closed his eyes in bliss. Snape's blood was dark and strong. This was more than just nourishment, this was heaven. He drank greedily from the vein, feeling instantly better.

He could feel himself heating up, which he thought of as an impossibility. He could no more feel the heat than he could the freezing cold. But he found his cheeks flushed and his eardrums thudded in his mind as he continued to drink. He knew he could do this forever. Or until the victim had no more blood to give.

The thought brought him immediate pause and he wondered how long he'd been at it. He retracted his fangs and licked at the puncture wounds, instantly sealing them. His breathing was shaky as he slowly and hesitantly looked up at Snape.

Lidded strained eyes looked back at him, unwavering. Harry calmly let go of Snape's wrist, allowing the man to cover his wrist with his own hand. Silence followed before Snape staggered back, nearly colliding with the sofa.

Immediately Harry had him balanced and he lowered the older man to the soft cushions. Harry knelt down, facing him. He took hold of Snape's shoulder, slightly shaking him.

"Snape, look at me. Snape?" Harry was suddenly distressed at what occurred. The man looked positively ghastly and it was all Harry's fault.

"Snape, come on, say something here..."

"I am fine. There's no need to fuss..." Snape trailed off with a tired voice.

Harry could feel the man's blood coursing through him. He felt alive and refreshed, but he couldn't help feeling guilty. He had made Snape do nothing, and yet he suffered the fact that it was all his fault that Snape looked near death.

Snape did look quite pale and exhausted. His head was practically drooping in his lap, his dark hair cascading downwards, covering his entire face.

Harry bit his lip and cautiously placed his other hand to Snape's other shoulder. Snape didn't even flinch. Slowly, Harry maneuvered the man so that his entire body from the waist up was lying flat on the sofa. By then the man's eyes were shut tight. Harry breathed a huge sigh of relief as he finished, placing Snape's legs onto the sofa and even taking off his boots.

Afterwards, he stared down at the sleeping man, his mind a whirlwind of manic thoughts. He had just drank Snape's blood. Snape's. Blood. And it was tasty too. He groaned out loud.

He sat on the opposite sofa and continued to stare as Snape's chest rose and fell, for what seemed like hours. Surely Remus would be worried by now, Harry thought offhandedly. He couldn't be bothered to care.

He was still reliving what happened with Snape. It wasn't just the fact that it was Snape's blood. It was the fact that Snape willingly offered his own blood for Harry's sake. He swallowed at that. No one had ever done such a thing for him. He didn't know how to feel about that. Grateful? Depressed? At the moment, he felt a mixture of both.

Snape, the _über_ prick, had given Harry his blood as if it were a casual thing to do. He couldn't know what it really meant to Harry. It was quite possibly, the best gift he'd ever received. Why had he done it? And why had Harry accepted? He could have said no, gone somewhere else. Maybe Snape saw his desperation. Or maybe Snape was still trying to protect him, even after all these years.

He closed his eyes at the memory; of Snape's face, so calm and impassive, yet so sure of his decision. A man of great resolve. Harry realized he was indebted to the man. He frowned at that. He didn't particularly like being in debt to Snape of all people, but he could handle it, he thought.

He looked over at clock on the mantle and frowned. It was very late and Remus was most likely still awake, waiting for him. Snape was still asleep. An idea came to him suddenly.

"Blinky!" he called, trying to keep his voice as low as possible.

The house elf popped into the room, fidgeting and glancing everywhere but at Harry.

"Blinky, listen to me. Master Snape is sleeping and will probably do so until morning. When he wakes, can you give him a message please?"

BLinky nodded hesitantly.

"Tell Master Snape that Harry is very sorry for what happened and that I will visit him tomorrow night, if I can. Can you do that, Blinky?"

"Blinky is delivering the message exactly. Blinky will do so as soon as Master Snape is awake."

"Thank you, Blinky." He stood to leave, staring down at the house elf. "Take care of him".

He left the cottage soon after, promptly apparating to Grimmauld Place.

As he expected, Remus was awake and waiting for him.

"Harry!, he screamed as soon as Harry walked through the kitchen door. "Thank god! It's all over the wireless. Are you alright?"

About five empty cups of what used to be coffee littered the kitchen table. Harry looked at the frantic-looking werewolf as he sat down on the wooden chair, exhausted.

"Calm down, Remus. I'm perfectly fine, as you can tell."

Remus immediately sat down next to Harry on the empty chair.

"So is it true then? Were you spotted?"

Harry nodded. "Spotted, yes. Recognized, no. Too many people and it was quite dark out. Damn aurors."

"Harry, from what I hear, killing curses were being thrown. How did you get away?"

"I apparated", Harry lied. "To the nearest town. It wasn't easy, but I managed to escape. I'm sure that whole place is on lockdown now."

"How did you feed then?"

The question jarred Harry. He hadn't thought about how he would handle that question. He tried to think of a good lie but in the end, just settled for: "I grabbed the first drunk I saw." He mentally winced at that. What would Remus think of him, killing random innocent people? He wasn't about to tell him that Snape rescued him and fed him. As much as he was bursting to tell Remus, he couldn't betray Snape's trust like that.

Remus thankfully stayed silent, just nodding ever so slightly.

"I'm tired Remus, I'm heading to bed."

He left the man alone, slinking upstairs to his darkened and warded room. Despite what he told Remus, he lay awake until the sun rose, just thinking about all that had happened to him in the last few hours.

He wondered how pissed Snape would be when he woke up. If he'd ever want to see Harry again. Oh well; only one way to find out. He reached into his pocket, making sure he still had the tiny Portkey paperclip. Satisfied, he shut his eyes and fell into oblivion.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Pairing: HP/SS

Author's notes: Back from my mini vacation! Very happy to receive all the lovely reviews, as always. Response to unsigned reviews at the end... Hope you all enjoy this next chapter-it's much longer than the last couple. Oh, and just another reminder, this is SLASH so for anyone offended by the prospect, you can stop reading at anytime. This chapter is rated R, for good measure. For warnings, summary and disclaimer, see Prologue.

* * *

If Harry could physically sweat, he would be doing so at the moment. He was inexplicably nervous as he clutched onto the little Portkey paperclip, as if for dear life. He had started sputtering the password at least three times before cutting himself off.

He knew why he was nervous. He was going to see Snape and he didn't know if the man was going to kill him. Nothing but the sun could really kill a vampire, but when it came to Snape, he wasn't so sure. If he were Snape, and almost drained of all his blood, he would be angry too.

For some reason, he didn't really want Snape to cast him out. Snape was the first person to get close to him since he became immortal and though he could not call them friends, he certainly thought of Snape as someone he could speak with, if need be. Snape made him feel unnaturally comfortable and he didn't want to lose that. He did have Remus, but then again, Remus didn't offer him his blood.

He shook his head in annoyance and finally whispered the password. He felt the familiar unpleasant tug in his navel and he was once more planted on Snape's property. It was a pleasant enough evening for winter, almost calming. He made his way up the familiar twisting path until he spotted Snape's little cottage. Lights were clearly lit inside and Harry found it almost welcoming.

He stepped up to the doorway and after a shaky breath, knocked twice. The door was opened after a minute and Harry found himself staring wide-eyed at the man in front of him. Snape was wearing a cooking apron with roosters and chickens on it and he was holding an oven mitt with one hand.

"Potter."

Harry inaudibly gulped as he lifted his eyes to Snape's.

"Hello, sir."

Snape's expression was completely unreadable, though he detected a hint of boredom in his stance. Before Harry could ask if he could come inside, Snape stepped aside, waving him in.

Harry was shutting the door as Snape moved away to the kitchen. His voice carried through the house.

"I'm baking a meat pie, if you don't mind waiting."

Harry shook his head, then realized how ridiculous that was as Snape couldn't see him. After placing his cloak on the sofa, he followed Snape into the kitchen.

Sure enough, Snape was at the ancient looking oven, lifting out a darkened pan dish with contents that made Harry's stomach lurch. Just the smell of food made him sick with nausea. Snape didn't notice, thankfully.

Grappling for something to say, Harry blurted out, "So what's with the apron"? He couldn't help the smirk. Snape merely shrugged.

"I assume it was Albus's as it was here when I arrived. Do you really think I went to the market and purchased such a monstrosity?"

"No, I guess not." Harry spent a few minutes looking around the cozy kitchen noticing little knickknacks that he hadn't observed before. He smiled at objects that were clearly associated with Dumbledore.

"I assume the smell is not to your liking. I however, am ravenous and had a sudden craving for meat pie."

"Mmm, it's probably because of the blood loss." Harry visibly cringed at his own stupidity.

"Damn, Snape, I'm really sorry about what happened."

Snape continued to cut up even, chunky pieces of pie. "What for? For something that I proposed? You do not need to apologies for something that is not your fault." He placed a hearty portion on a plate and proceeded to eat it, standing up.

"I guess I feel guilty. I could have easily taken too much blood. I could have lost control."

"But you did not. And trust me, I would have stopped you if I had been in any danger."

Harry stopped his response and stared at the man stuffing his face with pie. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears. If Harry didn't know any better, there was a challenge in Snape's voice. He flashed his fangs in a grin.

"You think you could have stopped me? You know I am physically stronger than you, Snape?"

Snape appeared non-pulsed at Harry's demeanor. "One must not always rely on the physical, Potter." His black eyes stared straight into Harry's, daring him to contradict him. Harry just stared back, contemplating Snape's words.

His natural Legilimens skills were nothing compared to Snape's, he realized. The man had fooled Voldemort for years. Surely he was mentally stronger than Harry. The thought brought a thrill of exhilaration to Harry.

Men and woman cowered upon seeing him, fleeing for their lives. And here was Snape, practically bating him. The thought was strangely sensual. And then he realized he was just thinking about Snape in that manner and immediately cleared his mind.

He turned on his heels and walked back into the living room. He sat on the sofa, facing the blazing fireplace. He heard clinking of dishes coming from the kitchen, then running water. Footsteps soon followed as Snape appeared in the living room, sans apron. He took the couch opposite Harry, as was the norm, and leaned his elbows on his knees, inching closer to Harry.

"Tell me what has it been like living with the werewolf."

Harry's eyes flickered to Snape's, a slight frown marring his flawless face. He shrugged.

"It's great, I suppose. Remus is like family...and little Teddy is a blast. It's too bad I can only see him for a couple of hours before he has to go to bed. But I'll take it."

"And what a perfect pair you too make; A werewolf and a vampire."

Snape was clearly mocking him, but Harry refrained from commenting back. He knew Snape was making somewhat of a joke for if he really despised dark creatures that much, he would have not let Harry into his home.

He smiled at Snape. "Yes, pathetic isn't it?"

"Indeed."

A companionable silence followed, broken only by the occasional cracking fire.

"Have you fed tonight?"

Harry immediately darted a glare in Snape's direction.

"No," he stated in a deadly voice. "I don't feed everyday. And whatever you're thinking, don't. It will not happen again." He could have killed Snape for insinuating that Harry might want to feed from him again. He felt ill at the prospect.

Actually, blood was the last thing on his mind this evening. He didn't even realize he wasn't hungry. Usually, even after one day, the thirst would nag at him until it became stronger each day, and then unbearable. But on this night, he felt no hunger. He tried not to think about what that meant.

Snape nodded calmly back at Harry. They sat like that for another hour or so until Harry departed for Grimmauld Place. Snape had written something on a piece of paper and given it to him. Only when he arrived back at Remus's did he realize it was Snape's address. He found himself grinning silly for no reason and that was exactly how Remus found him.

***

"And I've been trying to find a tutor for Teddy. I've decided home schooling is the best option, until he gets his Hogwarts letter." Remus set a cup of hot coffee down on the old, battered kitchen table, looking down at Harry.

"That seems fair, Remus. I've heard that lots of magical children get home schooled."

"Yes, but that is not the issue. The problem is finding someone who doesn't mind teaching the son of a werewolf. Not to mention- no one can come here. I have money that was left to me, so getting Teddy to go to another home for schooling isn't a big deal."

"Remus, people know who you are. I'm sure there would be people willing to teach Teddy."

Remus nodded, almost distracted. "Yes, I suppose I can send out an advertisement. Who knows, I may have some luck, like I did with my Wolfsbane potion."

Harry frowned. "What?"

"Well, where do you think I get my potion from? I actually placed an advertisement in the Quibbler and surprisingly got a response." He laughed then.

"I was actually quite lucky, you see. The hospital supplied me with the potion for a few months after the war, which was a blessing, even though it was never as good as the one Severus- rest his soul- used to make for me. But it was something at least. But I knew it wouldn't last, so I got a suggestion from Luna to place an ad in the Quibbler. I did, and I got a response the next week."

Something nagged at Harry. "But Remus, how could you just trust someone like that?"

Remus shrugged. "The reply, whomever it was, allowed a trial basis. They made me the potion, which I had tested, free of charge. They said that if it was satisfactory, then an arrangement could be made. I have never missed a single month. I get my potion on the same day, each month, on the dot." He sipped his coffee. "I can also vouch that the potion I take now is three times better than what I was getting at St. Mungo's." He laughed slightly. "It might even be better than Severus's.

Harry averted his eyes as a thought struck him. "And you have no clue who the person making the potion is?"

"None at all. A Master of Potions, I assume. He could be from anywhere in the world. I've never really asked. I get my potion and he gets paid a hefty amount. It's a brilliant arrangement, in my view. What is it, Harry?"

Harry hadn't even realized he was frowning. "Oh, nothing, Remus. Just odd, that's all. But I'm glad it's working out for you."

Remus smiled. "Yes, in fact, the last correspondence stated that he was attempting to create an even better version of the potion. It should be ready by next month, he promised."

"That's great, Remus," Harry genuinely meant it too. He was really happy for the man.

"You're looking better today, Harry. Not so pale."

"Yea, I had noticed that too. My last meal must have been one hell of a good one." He laughed but secretly could not stop thinking about that particular last meal. His best to date, in fact. He found himself suddenly regretting refusing Snape again, then shook his head. No. He would not come to rely on that man, no matter how perfect his blood was.

***

Four days after he fed from Snape, Harry found himself starved. He awoke at eight pm and immediately felt the familiar hunger pains. It wasn't as bad as he was used to, even after such a long while, but he didn't want to go another day without a meal. He was conscious about the fact that he had actually gone a full four days without feeding.

He had also successfully avoided seeing Snape the last couple of days, just in case his hunger took over and he was once more forced to feed from the man. Not that the thought was unappealing. Actually, it was inexplicably _appealing_.

He showered and changed, not bothering to look in the mirror. He knew he looked a sight. He left his room and made his way downstairs where he heard voices coming from the library.

"Damn it!" He hissed. He didn't want Teddy seeing him like this. He lifted the hood of his cloak over his head, hiding most of his features.

"Remus?" he called from the hall.

Remus walked out a second later, thankfully alone. He cast a concerned look at Harry.

"I have to go, Remus, I just didn't want Teddy seeing me like this."

"Harry, where will you go? Knockturn is still not safe. There are aurors everywhere. Diagon Alley too. You know they have reward posters for your capture out?" His voice was worrisome but Harry couldn't do anything about that.

"I know, Remus, but I need to feed. I won't go to Knockturn, I promise." He left Remus, standing there looking dejected and walked out the front door.

What he hadn't realized was that the weather was quite poor. It was snowing sideways and icicles dangled from every rooftop. The wind was not helping matters either. Harry frowned at his rotten luck. Surely, not many people would be out and about this night. It would be difficult.

He bit his lip and reached into his pocket, grabbing at the folded piece of paper with Snape's location on it. It wasn't terribly far, he realized. He looked up at the black sky and the deserted streets.

"Fuck it," he exclaimed, and apparated straight to Snape's house.

He felt disgusted and weak as he knocked once more on Snape's door.

'The man must think me despicable and pathetic,' thought Harry morosely.

Snape did seem surprised to see Harry on his doorsteps. He raised a brow at Harry's state. Harry walked into the entryway, removing his hood. He turned to face a quizzical looking Snape.

"I'll pay you as much as you want for a goblet full of your blood." It sounded crude even to Harry's ears, but he couldn't help that now. It was out in the open and it was up to Snape to either refuse him and cast him out as pathetic, or to agree and be his savior.

Snape, however said nothing. He stood there, his gaze impenetrable, calmly assessing Harry, who stood his ground, albeit a little shaky. After an entire moment of silence where he feared the worst, Snape suddenly stalked up to Harry, grabbing him by the neck and crushing his lips to his own.

Mind going completely blank from shock, Harry just stood there utterly still, until he realized that Snape wasn't trying to kill him, but kiss him. Of course, that made no sense either, but he couldn't bring himself to care because Snape forced his tongue into Harry's mouth, eliciting a surprised moan.

Harry found his arms suddenly and inexplicably wrapped around Snape's torso, pulling him flush up against his body. His brain still not functioning properly, he allowed his mouth to do all the work.

Just as suddenly, the assault stopped. Snape leaned back slightly, to whisper in Harry's ear. "The neck this time, if you don't mind. The wrist was not entirely painless."

"Fuck..." Harry felt his knees grow weak as he was suddenly two inches from Snape's long and elegant neck. The vein, so clear and blue was throbbing against Harry's tongue as he carefully licked a path across it, soothing the impending pain.

He bit clean through, and promptly felt Snape flinch against him. The man didn't try to pull away however. He actually stifled a moan, which Harry could have sworn he heard, and pressed even closer to the younger man.

Harry was once more in heaven. It was even better than drinking from Snape's wrist. This was more...intimate. The blood tasted more pure; so thick and rich. He drank greedily, his eyes shut tight in abandon. He held Snape close; one hand on his neck, one around his waist. It was a while before he realized that Snape was ridiculously hard against him. It took him a while longer to realize that he was just as aroused.

He moaned out loud from sensory overload. It was too much. He released Snape's neck, slightly less gracefully then he wanted and licked the bites closed. He carefully lowered Snape to the floor, following close behind.

He couldn't help glancing at Snape's lower half, where the tell-tale hardness was pressing up against his pants. His jaw almost dropped in amazement. He tried to calm his breathing and he realized Snape was attempting to do the exact same thing, as the older man's mouth hung slightly open, his lips still slick from their earlier kiss.

Harry grazed his palm over his own bulging erection and bit his lip to the point of bleeding. He was unbelievably horny and it was all Snape's fault. Dear god, what was the world coming to?

"Are you alright?" he finally managed to ask.

Snape just nodded, eyes still lidded.

"Are you tired?"

Another nod.

Harry managed to raise himself off the floor, and even managed to lift Snape off it and onto the nearest sofa. After removing the man's boots, he leaned down, taking a closer look at the man's face. He appeared pale, but peaceful. Just as he was about to straighten out, Snape suddenly grabbed a fistful of his shirt, pulling him close once again.

Their lips met, and just as before, Harry couldn't contain the moan. Snape apparently couldn't handle anymore as his arm dropped suddenly and his eyes fell shut of their own accord. A barely-there smile ghosted his face and Harry found himself smiling back.

He stood up straight, licking his lips. Definitely feeling a million times better, he grabbed his cloak and went back to Grimmauld Place, but not before calling Blinky and making sure she cooked a large meal for Snape for when he awoke.

Remus was in the library when Harry arrived back at the house. He looked surprised, but relieved to see Harry back so soon.

"Harry. Back already?"

Harry flashed him a grin as he practically bounced in the room and plopped down on the nearest, most comfortable looking chair.

Remus smiled back. "I know that look. It's purely mischievous. What have you been doing tonight, Harry?"

"Oh nothing. I've just had a very productive night tonight, that's all."

"Yes, I can see that." Remus gave him a quizzical look before turning back to the book he was reading.

Harry remained silent, but couldn't repress a smile.

"You look remarkably healthy, Harry," Remus proclaimed without looking up.

"I feel good," Harry honestly said. "I feel remarkable actually." Another grin followed.

"I see...So who is the lucky person?"

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

Remus finally glanced up at Harry, a glint of something in his eyes. "You're smitten, Harry. It's very obvious too."

Harry's eyes were like saucers. He was happy, yes, but he wouldn't consider himself, what did Remus say? Smitten? No way. He was just very, very happy at the moment.

"I don't know what you mean, Remus." He tried to school his features to indifferent, but it was proving to be difficult with the way Remus kept looking at him.

"Whatever you say, Harry. I was once in love too."

Harry blanched and grimaced. "Remus!" he sputtered, completely at a loss for adequate words. "I'm not- It's not like that. Oh God!" He placed his head in his palms, trying to cover out the world.

Remus had just insinuated that he was in love with Severus Snape.

'Oh my god, if he only knew. Then he wouldn't be looking so smug.'

"Remus," he started, still not looking up. "Please don't say that. It's not like that. There is no one like that. And even if there were, there's no way in hell anyone would ever consider doing anything remotely intimate with someone like me."

He heard Remus close his book and approach him, but he was too mortified to look up. He felt a slight pressure on his shoulder.

"Harry, I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to insinuate anything."

Harry could only nod. He knew Remus meant no harm. Still, it hurt to think of the fact that there really was no chance for him to get close to anyone. Not like the way he wanted, anyway.

He sighed and sagged back into the chair cushion. Remus still had a worried look aimed at him, which he wanted to appease.

"It's alright, Remus. It just came as a shock, that's all."

Remus nodded, and sat back down, hands folded in front.

"You know Harry, what you said about it being an impossibility of finding someone that would care about you so- well, I just don't believe that's true. I mean, look at myself. Tonks...well, she loved me. Loved me enough to marry me and give me a son, despite my arguments against it."

Harry looked away. "That's different, Remus. You're different. You don't need human blood to live. Who would love that?" Frustrated, he got to his feet and walked out the room. Remus followed immediately after.

"Harry, wait. I wasn't trying to compare our abnormalities. I was shunned almost my entire life and I imagine that is what you're feeling. Is it not? I was just comparing our situations."

Harry turned around to face Remus, clearly frustrated. "Remus, for 99 percent of the month, you are a normal looking human being. For all anyone knows, you _are _perfectly normal. But me! All anyone has to do is look at my eyes. Or my skin. Not to mention that if I don't feed for two days, I look worse than Voldemort!"

"Harry, you always do this! You always over exaggerate the situation. You even admitted that you didn't come to me sooner because you feared my reaction. Do you really think if you went up to Ron or Hermione right now, that they would turn you away? You never think well of yourself, Harry!"

Harry had never seen Remus so worked up and angry. At the moment though, he didn't care to relish the moment. He turned on his heels and stalked upstairs, barely suppressing the urge to slam his door. After all, he didn't wish to wake Teddy. He locked and warded it instead, falling onto the bed right after.

His mind was going in a million different directions. He felt angry and confused, and he couldn't understand what ticked him off more at the moment. He felt like he disappointed Remus in some way, and he didn't even know how. But Remus didn't know what he was feeling.

He placed a pillow over his face, once again trying to block out the world. He thought suddenly of Snape, and how wonderful his blood had tasted. How perfect his lips had tasted. Did the man actually not mind touching Harry? He certainly didn't seem it. From what Harry remembered, Snape seemed to actually like what occurred between them.

Certainly judging by the man's physical response, it was clear that Snape was not averse to being so close to Harry. The question was why. How did Snape benefit from this? Surely there must be a catch. But if Harry could taste that blood again, it may be totally worth it. He smiled into the pillow.

There _was_ something different about Snape's blood. There had to be. Harry flung the pillow off of him and stalked to the bathroom. He flicked on the lights and looked into the mirror. Yes, he did look healthy; not so pale. His features were full and even his hair looked shinier. But it wasn't just looks. No, Harry could feel it inside him. He felt more lively, more...exuberant.

Usually after feeding, he felt sated and that was that, but twice now he had drank from Snape and felt utterly transformed. He felt younger and almost carefree. Like he was back in school, or something. He smiled at his own reflection for once. Satisfied, he went back to his bed and pulled out a book for some light reading. It was early yet, but there was no going out, not in that weather. He settled in comfortably, his eyes on the book but his mind on a future visit with Snape.

* * *

_tonks*is*cool- _Thank you, once again for your perceptive review! The reason why Snape's blood in particual, affects Harry so will be explained a bit later on-but truthfully, it's nothing surprising or innovative... As I mentione before, Snape has always looked out for Harry in the past-even risked his life on numerous occassions, so helping Harry out now is not that big of a deal to him. They have both changed so much since the war, but in some regards, they are still the same. About the blood-replenishing potion-I didn't even consider it, to be honest, but then again, Harry may have been too worried to think properly ;) Anywho, I can write forever and I love talking to different people about fics in general and different ideas, etc so thanks once again and I hope you enjoy the next chapter.

_XTE- _Thank you very much! I really appreciated your review :)


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Pairing: HP/SS

Author's notes: I'm thrilled at all the hits and reviews I've received so far. Thank you to everyone who stopped to check out my fic! This chapter contains some minor NC-17 content and graphic language. You have been warned… For all warnings, summary and disclaimer, see Prologue.

* * *

The sound of hard rain woke Harry, a frown immediately upon his face before his eyes even opened. From his third floor bedroom, it was much easier to hear the rain. Freezing rain it was, pelting on the old copper roof at an annoying rate.

Harry scrunched up his face as he tried to will the sound away but it was no use. He was very much awake and far earlier than he would have liked. He was used to waking as soon as the sun set. It was practically like clockwork each and every night.

This evening, Harry knew it was not quite dark enough for it to be safe. Still, he sat up in his oversized bed and threw back the multitude of blankets. Feeling no chill, it was more of a comfort factor than an actual necessity.

His bare feet touched the worn wooden floor and he practically slouched his way to the washroom. It was smaller than the ones on the second floor, but Harry liked living in the attic. It was large and for the most part, actually cozy. It was completely finished, albeit quite dusty and dark. Still, he felt safe there, all alone in his own private sanctuary. It felt nice.

He took his time, taking a scalding shower, washing his long hair. He lathered every inch of his body, his eyes closed in relaxation. The warm water raining over him was a nice contrast to the icy evening rain overhead. He rested his forehead against the slick tile and allowed his hand to rest on his hardening erection. It had been a while, though really, he wasn't particularly planning to indulge.

Still, it was one of those things that one really hates to waste. He squeezed gently on the tip, a sigh escaping his lips. Lazily, he moved his hand up and down the shaft, in no hurry to end it. He couldn't remember the last time he actually wanted this.

An image of Snape suddenly popped into his mind, and of the previous night. He stilled his hand as he realized that he was actually thinking about Snape in _that_ way. But the kiss could not be forgotten. It was permanently ingrained in his memory, stored away for safe keeping. And now it decided to make an entrance. He felt his cheeks flush and before he realized what he was doing, his hand had resumed its ministrations.

Now that he actually had a visual, the process went much quicker and in less than a minute he had his other hand splayed across the tile, to keep from tipping over, the evidence of his fantasy already washed away down the swirling drain.

He cracked open an eye, his breathing ragged. Water from the shower fell over his head, dripping down his face, into his open mouth. He barely registered the taste. He reflexively spat out the water and turned around, leaning his back against the slippery tile. He stayed like that, unmoving for a minute, before rinsing his still-sticky hand and shutting off the water.

He lazily stepped out, the cool air hitting him immediately. Again, barely registering it, he wrapped a towel around his frame and went to his wardrobe, pulling out a pair of his favorite faded denims and a black sweater.

He quickly dried his hair with a spell, leaving it long and shaggy. He dressed and after one quick look in the mirror, left his cozy attic room. He hummed a nameless tune as he step-hopped down the stairs. His mind completely preoccupied with all things Snape, he didn't even register the fact that there were voices coming from the first floor parlor.

He stepped onto the landing and turned in the direction of kitchen, hoping to find Remus there. Upon hearing his muffled voice, he stopped and turned towards the closed parlor doors. Still humming, he walked up and without knocking, grabbed the handles and opened the doors-only to be stopped dead at the entrance.

He did find Remus inside, talking with a very familiar-looking Hermione Granger. The silence was louder than the storm outside and nobody dared to move even an inch. His mouth at his feet, and his fingers still clenched on the handles, he stared wide-eyed at the two figures staring back at him; one with a guilty expression, and one with a look that said 'I'm pretty sure I just saw a ghost'.

Still unable to speak or move, it was Hermione that finally broke the silence.

"Oh my god..." Her voice was clearly disbelieving and yet her eyes clearly recognized her once former best friend.

Harry flinched at the sound and turned a venomous glare towards Remus.

"Traitor!" he hissed, unable to restrain himself. The knuckles grasping the handles were white and shaking and he felt the familiar and shamefully pleasant sensation of anger. He could smell the fear in the air and he barely refrained from attacking right then and there. It took every ounce of his willpower to not pounce on either Hermione or Remus. Instead, he carefully and slowly started to back out of the room.

"Harry, wait!" Remus dared to make the first move.

"Don't come near me! I swear it, you'll be sorry!" He was boiling mad but more so, he felt betrayed. Hermione had her hands to her mouth, apparently realizing that whatever Remus had told her was true.

"How could you, Remus! How? I trusted you!" Harry was beyond complacency and the blood lust was growing stronger. Fear. Fear and anger were all he knew at the moment.

"Harry, I'm sorry. I just wanted to show you that-"

"NO! Don't! I don't want to hear anything from you, Remus!" He took another step back and immediately tensed as he felt a presence behind him.

Reflexes taking over, he whirled on the unsuspecting being and started as he realized it was little Teddy that stood so near, eyes wide with shock and fear.

His throat constricting, his eyes suddenly blurry and his anger on the verge of exploding, he pulled deep inside of himself, gathering help from his magical core- and apparated away.

He landed in a wet and muddy half-frozen puddle, steps from Snape's cottage. Dropping immediately to his knees to stop his head from spinning, he placed both hands to the squishy earth, steadying himself. He felt sick and for a moment thought he would vomit, before realizing that it was impossible for him to do so. Instead, a horrible choking sob escaped his throat, followed by a louder one, until all sound was erased but his ragged sobbing.

Feeling wet and uncomfortable, he finally pulled himself to his feet and walked the few meters to Snape's front door. He banged loudly with his muddy fist and flinched when the door was yanked open.

Snape took in Harry's appearance and immediately pulled him inside.

"What in the name of-"

"I almost killed him, Snape! I wanted to!" He actually turned away from the man, not wanting him to see what a wreck he'd become. Snape immediately had him in his arms and whirled around, facing him.

"What. Happened?" he asked urgently, eyes worrisome. Harry realized he'd never seen Snape so concerned.

"He betrayed me! I trusted him!" He started to struggle but Snape's grip was unyielding.

"Harry, Harry, stop. Who betrayed you? Lupin?"

Harry nodded. He couldn't trust himself to speak. He really didn't want to break down in front of Snape. It would be utterly embarrassing.

"What did he do to you, Harry?"

Harry shut his eyes, trails of bloody streaks leaking through the lashes. He had called him _Harry_.

He felt the pressure of surprisingly gentle fingers on his face. He opened his eyes, saw Snape take his thumb and graze it over Harry's cheek, wiping the wetness away. His eyes became more blurry as he stared in wide-eyed astonishment, watching Snape wipe away tear after bloody tear.

"He told," Harry finally managed, albeit with a shaky breath. He closed his eyes once more and rested his head to Snape's chest. It felt safe and warm. Snape held him, every so often moving his fingers through Harry's matted locks, massaging the scalp. No more tears fell from Harry's eyes, but he felt depressed and ashamed and what had transpired.

Finally, Snape pulled back and took Harry's hand. "Come."

He led Harry up the narrow staircase and to the left where a moderately sized washroom was. An ornate iron claw foot tub stood against the wall in the corner and Snape immediately walked over and turned on the taps. He came back to where Harry stood, eyes half closed and decidedly not looking at Snape, and attempted to take his clothing off.

It proved quite difficult as the wet clothing clung almost desperately to Harry's frame. So he took out his wand and whispered a spell. The clothing promptly disappeared and reappeared on the floor next to Harry, who didn't even flinch at having a wand pulled on him. Snape took off his own outer robe, and rolled up his sleeves. He took hold of Harry's hand once more and led him to the half-filled tub.

He checked the water temperature with his hand. It was boiling. However, satisfied, Snape held Harry's hand as the younger man sluggishly stepped into the tub, unaware of the heat. He sat and sank into the tub, eyes shutting of their own accord. He leaned back in the tub, seemingly comfortable.

Once more, Snape took his wand and aimed it at the water. He used a spell and removed all traces of mud and everything else that stuck to Harry's body. Satisfied that the water was once again clean, he kneeled next to the tub and grabbed a washcloth on a nearby shelf.

The water was nearly scalding. Still he dipped the cloth and pulled it out, slightly ringing it out. He started with Harry's face. He carefully, washed away the streaky blood tears, the muddy spots on his forehead and neck. He took some shampoo in his hands, lathering the goop into Harry's hair. He squeezed the lather through strand after strand, lifting the damp locks off his neck and gathering it all together, then repeating with conditioner. He rinsed off the soapy suds with a silver pitcher, uncaring for the mess it made on the tile floor.

The hair fell wet and sleek, draping over Harry's neck and shoulders. Some strands were so long they fell slightly into the water, floating splayed out. Harry remained silent throughout, every once in a while eliciting a soft sigh. Snape cleaned Harry's arms and chest, watching as the steamy water turned the normally pale skin an alluring shade of pink. The steam rose and filled the room, making Snape uncomfortable and damp. Still, he softly whispered into Harry's ear, asking him to lean forward.

He washed his back slowly as Harry rested his chin on his knees. His hair covered his face and his arms wrapped around his legs in the front. Snape finally dropped the cloth into the tub, watching it sink to the bottom.

Harry sluggishly leaned back once more, sighing at the slightly more relaxed feel.

"Harry."

His brow crinkled in frustration. He didn't want to face Snape.

"Harry, look at me."

Harry didn't want to appear childish but he certainly didn't want to talk to Snape. He was deeply embarrassed and he couldn't believe how he just acted with Snape. Allowing his fear to recede, he slowly opened his tired lids. The room was blurry at first, but Harry realized it was from all the steam. He blinked and looked straight at Snape.

Of course the man was unreadable. And Harry felt like an open book. He looked away, into the murky water. He shook his head slightly and sighed.

"I am so sorry. I can't believe I acted-"

"What did Lupin do to you?"

Harry clenched his jaw in remembrance. His heart still felt like it was beating a million times a minute. He raised a wet hand to his chest to calm it.

"He betrayed my trust. I came to him because I thought I could trust him." He turned his head, looking Snape straight in the eye.

"I can't believe he told Hermione."

Snape's brow furrowed slightly.

"Granger. Was she alone?"

Harry thought back to the awful scene. He nodded. "Yes, as far as I could tell." He could still remember her horrific expression.

Snape sighed. "I will not attempt to condone the wolf's behavior, but there may have been a reason she was there alone."

Harry had thought about that. "Because if Ron was told, he'd flip. Hermione was always the understanding one. The calm one." He shook his head.

"That does not give him the right to betray me."

Snape said nothing for a minute, then, "He probably thought he was helping you. He was obviously clever enough to only bring her into the picture. He figured she could be trusted."

"That's not the point. You should have seen how she looked at me," he finished bitterly. "I could smell her fear." He remembered the scent; it had thrilled him, as it always did when he hunted. He had wanted to hurt her. Or rather, the vampire part of him did. He sighed. Remus was a fool not to have considered that. If he had hurt any of them...He didn't even want to think about it. He'd never be able to live with himself.

He barely registered when Snape got up to hand him a plush towel. He stood shakily and wrapped the towel around his waist. Grabbing a hold of Snape's shoulder, he carefully stepped out of the tub onto a mat.

"I will find some clothing for you." Snape left the room, allowing Harry to dry off. Only after he had finished did he realize he had left his wand back at Grimmauld Place.

"Fuck!"

The door opened hastily and Snape walked back in, a confused expression on his face.

"What is it?"

Harry sighed and looked down in frustration. "I forgot my wand back at Remus's."

Snape handed Harry a pile of clean clothes. "It is no matter. You have no need for it right now and you can pick it up after."

"I can't go back there," Harry said, already pulling on his slacks.

"Potter, since when have you been scared away by anything?"

Harry just flashed him a dirty look, and pulled the shirt over his head.

"I will be downstairs." Snape left Harry to finish up. He stood dressed and looked back at the tub and the large puddles of water surrounding it. He frowned, realizing he should clean it up. He really could have used his wand at the moment, but just took his already soppy towel and proceeded to mop up the water. He wrung the dirty water into the tub after each swipe of the floor, then draped the wrinkled towel over the edge of the tub, and went to find Snape.

He heard soft music as he descended the stairs, and realized a record was playing somewhere in the house. It sounded nice, and relaxing.

He found Snape in the parlor, stoking the fire. He turned as he heard Harry approach.

"Tell me something, Potter. What frightens you more? The fact that Granger knows about you, or the fact that you are glad that she knows?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "You think I'm glad? You think I should be happy? I can't resume my former life Snape! It doesn't work like that."

"Why not? So she knows! What do you think she will do with that information? Sell it to the Prophet? She just found out her friend, whom everyone believes to be long dead, is perfectly alive and within his capacity to communicate with her. The ball is in your court, as they say."

Harry felt miserable. "I can't! Maybe she won't treat me like a monster, but she would certainly pity me, and that, I won't deal with. I've made peace with what I am. I can't do it over again."

"Then why did you come to me? Why me, Potter? You who loathed the ground I walked on. And I made your life miserable for _years_- I freely and happily admit it! Why would you choose me over your friends?

"Because you don't give a shit about me!"

Snape looked at Harry as if he truly had lost his reason.

"_You_ would never pity me, or treat me any differently. I don't frighten you; do you have _any_ idea what that's like? You're clearly not intimidated by me in the least. This is the most amount of normalcy I've known in years.

"I don't even know why you're being nice to me right now! You should hate me, or curse me- tell me I'm my father's son! Just...something!" He was breathing heavy and his throat was raw from screaming.

"You are not your father's son. I was wrong about that." Snape looked calmly back at Harry.

"How can you say that, after all these years?

"Because if I still felt that way, I would never be able to do this." Snape took the four steps separating him from Harry and grabbed the younger man by the shoulders, bruising his lips with a kiss.

Harry melted. The tension of the past couple of hours disappeared into a burning fire. He glided his fingers through Snape's ebony hair, pulling him closer. The man was unyielding. He kissed Harry as if his life depended on it, and Harry had absolutely no complaints. Except when Snape backed away.

A sound of protest escaped his bruised lips, as he tried to keep Snape in his arms. Apparently though, Snape only wanted to kiss his neck. He licked and suckled, eliciting moan after shameless moan. Harry's whole body was on fire. He never realized how sensitive his neck really was. That would explain Snape's reaction to his last feeding.

"Harry...Tell me if this is what you want." Snape lightly nipped at his sensitive flesh, making Harry shudder.

"Yesss." Harry really didn't think he could form a more coherent response.

Snape grabbed the sides of Harry's face, looking him dead in the eye.

"I will give you a choice. I can either hate you, or I can fuck you."

"Oh god..." Harry's knees practically buckled beneath him. He tried to concentrate. He could either have the comfortable familiarity with Snape, as he was used to. Or he could have what he'd been missing for years. What he didn't realize he truly wanted until the way Snape looked at him.

He gripped the front of Snape's shirt, dilated eyes boring into Snape's. "I want you. To fuck me." Snape didn't allow Harry to rethink his options as he assaulted his mouth once more.

He showed no mercy as he tore at Harry's clothing, finally using a wandless spell to divest Harry of all his garments. Harry groaned in frustration as he tried to unbutton one of Snape's many buttons.

Another spell followed and Snape stood as naked as Harry. Bodies clashed as Snape practically threw Harry onto the sofa. Their hardening erections ground against each other, eliciting identical gasps.

Almost as an afterthought, Snape pulled back and asked Harry if he had ever done this before. Harry barely refrained from rolling his eyes.

"I'm no virgin, Snape. But it has been a few years." Snape thankfully nodded, and resumed kissing him. His hands roamed every inch of Harry's body, finally settling on the protruding organ. Harry hissed as a warm fist was wrapped tightly around, squeezing ever so gently.

He couldn't help but arch into the touch, eliciting a dark chuckle from Snape. "Wanton little prick, aren't you."

"Ugh, was that a pun? Please don't speak, just-" Snape squeezed tight, cutting off Harry's sentence. He flung his head back in abandonment. Harry felt a slight breeze and realized Snape was moving off of him, and onto the floor.

As soon as Snape's knees touched the carpet, his mouth was on Harry's prick. Harry gasped and grabbed a hold of Snape's head, wanting to keep him in place, yet not wishing to make the older man uncomfortable. Snape however, didn't seem to mind. His tongue was relentless and Harry had to stop him before things escalated.

"Wait, no. Not like this," he gasped. Snape seemed to understand. He stood and reached out for Harry's hand. A split second later, he had apparated them both into the bedroom. Harry barely registered his surroundings before Snape backed him onto the comfortable looking bed. He reached into the nightstand and pulled out a small jar of ointment.

Harry laid back into the pillows as Snape opened the tiny bottle and dropped a few drops into his hand.

"I brewed this myself. I assure you, you will not be disappointed." He took an oiled hand and wrapped it around Harry's prick. Immediate, unexpected heat flared through Harry. His eyes went wide as he watched Snape try to please him.

"The lubricant reacts to body temperature," Snape purred. "You will, I imagine, find your prick becoming more and more sensitive with each touch, more heated. But then again, I have never tried this on a vampire."

Harry could only nod to assure Snape that it was indeed, working. Snape stopped to pour more oil onto his hands.

"Lift." Harry needed no further instruction as he raised his hips and legs, drooping them over Snape's shoulders.

"I want no complaints from you tomorrow."

Harry briefly wondered what Snape meant. Only after Snape had fucked him soundly into the mattress did he realize: he was going to be completely sore, perhaps for more than a day. At the moment, he really couldn't care.

Snape had been brutal and unrelenting. And Harry had loved every minute of it. He had never begged more in his life. And afterwards, he had never felt safer. His eyes were shut before Snape even got the chance to clean them up.

* * *

_Snarky B_: Thank you for noticing that about Remus. In my other fic, Remus's scent is quite sensitive around the full moon. In this fic, well, I'd like to think it is the exact same way. There is more, but I don't wish to spoil anything...Thanks again!


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Pairing: HP/SS

Author's notes: Thank you to everyone who reviewed, it was much appreciated. One unsigned reviewer response below...There are only a few chapters left, plus the epilogue. Hope to see you there! For all warnings, summary and disclaimer, see Prologue.

* * *

Harry slept soundly, not waking once until the sun departed the world, and darkness set in. When he opened his eyes, he was alone and a brief flicker of fear overtook him. He had slept with Snape and now it would be awkward. The man was nowhere to be found, and Harry was only a little disappointed. He didn't really expect Snape to be the type of man who stayed the night.

That thought gave him pause. He was starting to feel guilty for bothering Snape with his presence. Surely the man had a schedule that he liked to stick to. One that probably included sleeping at night, unlike Harry. He frowned, then noticed something.

There were three windows in the bedroom, and every single one of them had been clearly sealed airtight. Snape had blocked out the sun for him. The thought brought a goofy grin to his face, and he scrambled out of bed, only to remember he was completely nude. He found his clothing on a bench in front of the bed and hastily dressed.

He found Snape sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee and reading The Prophet. He paused at the doorway, the wariness and awkwardness returning full force.

"It's rude to linger in doorways, Potter."

Harry smiled. "What happed to Harry?"

Snape briefly glanced from his paper to raise an elegant brow.

"Are you hungry?"

Harry froze, mind reeling. Snape continued to read the paper, completley oblivious to Harry's expression. Harry was stunned at Snape's nonchalance regarding his need for blood.

"Are you serious?" He had to ask. "If I were to tell you I was famished, what would you do?"

Snape put down his paper, staring at Harry with a curious expression.

"_Are_ you famished?"

Harry crinkled his brow, at a loss for words. Finally, "Are you offering? Because if you are, you better damn well be sure. Dependency is not something I am used to. I can leave right now. I can find blood elsewhere, and I can come back. I'd...like to come back. But you don't owe me anything. Especially your blood."

"You're rambling. Come here." He hadn't moved from his chair or inclined to Harry that he actually wanted to do this, but Harry found himself obeying.

He found himself standing next to a seated Snape. Not wanting to make the first move, he waited, hands clenched.

Snape raised his hand to Harry's shoulder, finding a loose shaggy strand and weaving it slightly around his finger.

"You need a haircut." He let go of the silky strand and got to his feet, easily towering over Harry. Very gently, more so than Harry ever imagined was possible, Snape cupped the sides of Harry's face, leaning in to press a soft, but reassuring kiss to the vampire's lips. Harry felt his cheeks redden at the obvious and unexpected sign of affection.

"What sort of host would I be if I didn't offer my guest something to eat?" he whispered lightly.

Harry's breath caught in his throat. "I've heard it can be addicting, Snape," he warned. "And not just for the vampire."

Snape placed another kiss on Harry's lips. "I'm already addicted," he murmured, pushing Harry close. The younger man was lost. The admission should have shamed him, made him feel guilty, anything. But he felt only hunger and lust. For Snape of all people.

Physically stronger, he pushed the man back down on the chair, immediately straddling him. Snape, momentarily stunned-a rare feat indeed- sat still while Harry adjusted himself to a more comfortable position. Finally settled on Snape's heated lap, he leaned close to the older man's neck, nuzzling it with his nose, breathing in the now familiar scent.

He felt Snape rest his hands on Harry's back, running them slowly up and down.

"Tilt back," Harry whispered. Snape obeyed, exposing the pale flesh.

His thirst was building and he was practically salivating at the open invitation. He felt his fangs lengthen ever so slightly as he grazed them across Snape's neck. He could hear the older man's heart beating madly in his chest. It thrilled Harry that much more.

He bit down and Snape stiffened against him. The first taste of blood was like heaven, pure and insatiable. It only got better with each passing moment. He could feel Snape's erection pressing against Harry's own as he rocked slightly against the man, eliciting the most erotic sounds.

Sated, he carefully pulled his fangs in, and licked the tiny puncture wounds with his tongue, his saliva healing them quickly. He could feel the delicious blood flowing through every inch of his body. He closed his eyes, reveling in the moment.

It was Snape that broke the silence first. His voice sounded hoarse and tired. "I've always read what it is supposed to feel like. I've read so many accounts, from different people, describing it. They were all of them fools." Harry looked at Snape in confusion.

"You cannot adequately describe on paper this experience. And their words do not give it justice."

Harry gave him a crooked smile. "Careful Snape, I might think you're actually enjoying this."

Snape glared at the younger man, but it didn't have the same effect it normally did, with Snape looking exhausted and ill. Harry brushed a strand from the man's forehead.

"I've read it's supposed to get better- the recovery, that is. The tiredness will eventually go away as you become more used to the experience." He bit his lip, not looking away from Snape.

"We shall see," the older man replied. "Now, get off me."

Harry did, offering the man his hand to stand. Snape wobbly got to his feet and Harry helped him to the parlor. After they were settled on the sofa, he felt Snape shiver against him.

"It is freezing in here." Harry frowned, looking over to the well-lit fire.

"I'm sorry, it's the blood loss." He snuggled closer to Snape, as if his body could offer the heat that Snape's could not. He could tell the man was struggling not to succumb to sleep. The guilt returned.

"Severus?" Harry dared, awaiting the scathing rebuke.

None came.

"Mmm?"

"I'm not sure if this will sound odd to you. But, well, I've noticed this thing with your blood."

Snape stayed silent, so Harry went on.

"I feel different when I drink from you. Stronger. I-it's just something I can't explain. I've drank from so many people over the years and nothing compares."

Harry mentally cringed at the last bit. The last thing he wanted was for Snape to think him sentimental.

Snape inclined his head slightly. "I imagine it has to do with a wizard's magical strength. I'm sure you have heard of blood magic? I imagine it to be interconnected. The more powerful the wizard, the stronger the blood. Again, this is merely speculation, as I have never attempted to investigate."

Harry nodded in thought. Yes, it made sense. Snape was surely one of the most powerful wizards living. He had never really thought on it before. Though it _was_just speculation at this point, Harry instantly believed it to be true. Funny how modest Snape was about the whole thing...

Silence ensued once more.

"Will you go back to Grimmauld Place?"

Harry stayed silent for a moment. "I don't really want to. I wouldn't know what to say when I see Remus."

"It is only Lupin, I'm sure you can handle it."

"Thanks," Harry said sarcastically. "If only you could talk with him. If you did, I know he'd never do anything like that again. He'd be too frightened." He smiled at the mental image of Snape berating a guilty-looking Remus. Snape would be towering over the other man, withering him with just one look.

He thought he felt a chuckle coming from Snape. "I'm sure you will do quite adequately."

"And Hermione?" Remus he probably could handle, but this was entirely different. He didn't feel like relaying his entire sad existence again, and to his best friend at that.

"She knows now. You can't leave it like that. It would be foolish."

Snape had a point. He frowned, hating that the man was always right about everything, even when he was about to pass out. His eyes were lidded and his whole posture was relaxed.

Harry sighed heavily. "Well, I better not put it off then. I need my wand back too."

Snape made a noise of sorts and nodded lazily. Harry smiled.

"Thanks again, Snape, for everything." Another nod followed. Realizing the man was useless for the time being, he apparated to Remus's house and barged in without knocking.

Teddy was the first person he saw. The young boy looked stunned to see him.

"Father told me!" were the first words blurted from his mouth. He appeared frightened, standing there.

Harry sighed and silently cursed Remus. "I would never hurt you, Teddy, you know that, right?"

The boy looked uncertain for a second, then he launched himself at Harry. Stunned, Harry grabbed hold of Teddy, squeezing tight.

"Please don't leave like that again." The boy was loudly sobbing against Harry now, and he couldn't bear the thought of hurting his godson so.

"Oh, Teddy. He got to his knees so that he was at eye level with the young wizard. "Listen to me. I'm not leaving. I was angry yesterday, I just needed to get out and gather my thoughts. I'm sorry I frightened you."

Teddy wiped his face with his shirtsleeve. "I won't tell anyone, I promise. Dad told me not to."

Harry ruffled Teddy's shaggy short hair. "Teddy, you are too clever for your own good, you know? Far too intelligent for your age. Have you been talking to your aunt Hermione?" he joked, watching a slight smile form on Teddy's face.

"She said I would be the smartest boy in Hogwarts, when I get my letter."

Harry smiled. "Yes, I imagine that would be so." He got to his knees. "Where is your father?"

"In his room. Please don't be angry with him, Harry. He loves you."

Harry's heart clenched. "And I love him too. Don't worry, I'm just going to talk with him. Stay in the library for now, Teddy."

He left Teddy and walked upstairs, his eyes darkening with each step. He stopped in front of Remus's bedroom door and rapped loudly on it.

It was opened a minute later by a surprised Remus. The man had clearly just gotten out of the shower as his hair was soaked and he had a towel around his waist.

"Harry..."

Harry glared back and walked inside the room without an invitation. He turned around to face Remus, taking in the man's slightly anxious appearance. He hated that the man felt so nervous around him, but ever since the other night, he could hardly blame him. Still, he found he couldn't soften his features, even for the other man's benefit. He was still pissed.

"Remus."

"Harry, I-"

"Stop." He glanced over to the massive fireplace opposite the bed. He gestured to it with his head. "Is that open to floo?"

Remus cautiously nodded.

"Good. Call her." He didn't have to say it for Remus to know what he meant.

"Harry, if you'd rather-"

"I would have rather you kept your mouth shut, but it's too damn late for that. She's involved now. Call her here. Now." He gazed coolly at Remus, who was trying his hardest not to flinch under the gaze. Finally, he nodded.

"Give me a moment." He went to the washroom and shut the door. Harry took the time to look around. He had never been inside Remus's bedroom before. He noticed items that made him smile, despite his anger. He saw photos of his parents, of Tonks and of Sirius. Everyone in the photos was so happy. He saw a school-age Remus, looking shy but handsome, standing next to his three friends. He glared at the image of Pettigrew standing next to them.

He saw more photos, even of himself, of Ron and Hermione. He saw Remus's Order of Merlin, Second Class, on the mantle, collecting dust. He walked over to it, admiring the accolade he himself had received, posthumously. First Class, of course. He sighed, then spotted a half folded piece of parchment.

Curious, he lifted it off the mantle. It was a very short letter:

_R. _

I have made slight modifications to the potion. The side effects should be nonexistent. Let me know if there are any other unusual side effects from this batch. The experimental potion should be ready by winter's end. Will write when complete.

There was no signature, but something in the writing gave Harry pause. He heard the door open and he quickly replaced the parchment, and pretended to admire the photos on the mantel. He turned when Remus walked up to him, fully dressed.

He hesitated as he grabbed a handful of floo powder. Harry stepped back, away from view.

"Weasley-Granger Residence!" A moment later, Harry heard Ron's familiar voice. His breath caught and the ache was greater than he expected.

"Hey Remus, anything the matter?"

"No, not at all. Is Hermione home? I really need to speak with her."

"Sure, I'll get her," Ron cheerily replied. Harry was glad Remus was turned away from him. He didn't want the older man to see how distraught he was just from hearing his friend's voice.

A minute later, Hermione appeared, sounding nervous. Her voice low, she began, "Remus! What's happened? Did he come back?" Her voice was muted but urgent.

"Hermione, can you come through, just you?"

"Of course, give me a moment, I'll let Ron know."

Remus took a couple of steps back. Harry waited by the four poster bed, hands in pocket. He was calm on the exterior but internally he was a nervous wreck. If he could sweat, he'd be clammy from head to toe by now.

After what seemed like ages, Hermione gracefully stepped through the hearth, lightly dusting herself off.

"Ron went to bed, so I can't stay long. Has something happened, Remus?"

"Hello, Hermione."

She whipped her head in Harry's direction, eyes as wide as saucers. Harry, playing it cool, walked right up to her, stopping an arm's length away. To her credit, she never moved.

"Ohmygod..."

Harry remained impassive but his insides were lurching. She was exactly as he remembered, yet different. Still the same thick mess of curls, the strong hazel eyes, the tiny dimples on her cheeks...it was all so familiar.

She looked older though, more mature, a woman now, no longer the forceful know-it-all teenager. Frown lines marked her forehead. No surprise there, thought Harry.

She made a sudden move then, almost as if to touch him, and he reflexively flinched back. A flicker of hurt crossed her face before it was replaced once more with disbelief.

"I sincerely hope you didn't tell Ron." He could have slapped himself for making it sound so much like a warning.

But Hermione just shook her head, over and over and over again.

"No, I told him nothing. What could I say?" Her voice broke, and her eyes became unnaturally bright.

Harry looked over to Remus, who refused to make eye contact. He glared anyway.

"Harry...oh god I can't believe you're alive...please don't be angry with Remus for telling me."

Harry slowly turned his head back to Hermione, his glare withering slightly.

"What would you have me say, Hermione? What good can come from this? Do you see what I am?"

A tear fell from Hermione's eye, cascading down her rosy cheek and dropping to the floor. Harry watched it, fascinated. He missed his own blood-less tears.

"You're alive, Harry. We all thought you died! How can you say this means nothing!" More tears followed. She angrily wiped them away.

"I did die, Hermione! I'm _sure_ Remus regaled you with my woeful tale already," he bitterly added.

"Harry, I'm so sorry," Remus said. Harry should have felt guilty at Remus's remorseful expression, but he felt only anger.

"You had no right! None! I trusted you!" Remus looked away.

"Stop it, Harry! I'm glad he told me. I can't believe you would ever think we could stop loving you, Harry! We all died that day. When we thought we lost you! But you weren't dead..." Her eyes were so blurry, Harry wondered how she even saw anything through them.

"I'm dead to this world, Hermione. Go home. Forget you ever saw me. If I had my wand right now, I'd obliviate you. I swear it."

She looked aghast and Remus finally moved from his spot, to console her. She buried her sobbing face into his chest. Harry had seen enough. He moved to the door.

"No! Don't! He felt a hand on his shoulder and used every fiber not to recoil. Hermione's hand felt soft and warm, yet unyielding. Harry turned, facing her. She crushed up against him, pushing his back against the doorframe. She held tight, unmoving except for the sobs that wracked her body.

Harry finally relented, placing one hand on her mess of curls, the other on her back. Her head was buried in his chest and Harry glanced past her, to Remus, withering him with a sneer worthy of Snape.

They stayed like that for what seemed like minutes. Hermione sobbing gently on his chest and Harry quietly consoling her, his hand rubbing soothing circles across her back.

Finally, she pulled back, eyes red and puffy, her slightly freckled face spotty with tears. He stared into her eyes and found only love there. There was pain, yes, and regret, but she would not pity him, she was far too clever. No, she would love him as she always had, and Harry would fall hard for it.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and she wrapped her arms even tighter around him.

"Hush, Hermione. What will Ron think when he sees you like this?" He led her to Remus's bed. She sat on the edge and Harry sat next to her. He was only slightly aware of the fact that Remus took the opportunity to escape the room. He heard the soft click of the door as he departed. Harry sighed. He would deal with Remus later.

Hermione was wiping her blotchy face. Harry turned his body slightly towards her, grabbing a hold of her trembling hands.

"Hermione, I'm sorry for being such a jerk. I guess I was just so in shock."

She smiled slightly at him. "Oh, Harry, I'm just so glad to see you again. It just seems so surreal. I...don't mean to pry but I would dearly love to know what happened with you. Remus actually told me very little. He's very concerned."

Harry looked down. "Hermione, listen. If anyone finds out, I'll be killed. You know vampires have no proper sanctuary from the law. You have to promise me you won't tell anyone, even Ron."

She looked predictably appalled. "Harry, how can you say that! Ron is your best friend. He would absolutely die if he knew you were alive. How could you keep that from him? You have no idea how he's been since you disappeared. There are days which he is perfectly fine and content, and then I find him staring morosely into nothingness. He feels responsible."

"What? Why would he feel that way?"

Hermione looked devastated. "I...I think he feels he should never have left your side after it was all over. Some days, I think he's right. I feel awful-"

"Hermione, don't do that. This is not your fault, nor Ron's. It just happened. If anything, it was my fault for being so foolish as to think it would be safe to go wandering around so soon after The Battle. I got myself into this mess. No one is to blame. That thought never even crossed my mind."

Fresh tears appeared in her eyes. She pursed her lips, blinking them away.

"God, I have a million and one questions, Harry. I'm just so in shock."

Harry glanced over to the clock on the mantle. It was well past one.

"It's late, Hermione. You should get back to Ron." She was clearly about to protest, but Harry stopped her.

"I'm not running away from you, Hermione. I'm not going to disappear. I just need some time to think, and I'm sure you do as well."

She nodded, sniffling. "When will I see you again?"

"How about tomorrow night. Say eightish?" She nodded. "I'll be here. Alone."

Harry smiled, silently thanking Hermione's brilliance. She wiped her eyes once more, checking her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She hugged Harry goodbye one more time, composed herself, and went back home through the floo.

Raking his hands through his long locks, he sighed wearily and went downstairs to talk to Remus. He didn't know how he was going to handle _that_. He was still peeved. Hermione might have been an innocent bystander, but Remus was not.

He stepped down on the main floor, and called out for Remus. There was no immediate answer so he walked down the hall, peeking in every room he passed. Teddy was reading a book by the large fireplace in the library when Harry walked in.

"He hasn't come downstairs yet."

Harry frowned, then turned on his heels and walked back upstairs.

At the end of the hall, a door stood ajar. He paused momentarily at the sight and swallowed down the familiar guilt. He took slow, measured steps until he stood outside of Sirius's bedroom. He raised his hand and knocked slightly.

Again, there was no answer so Harry pushed the door open wider and stepped inside, his gut clenching. The room was exactly as he remembered it. He found Remus sitting on Sirius's old narrow bed, staring at the falling snow outside the grimy window. He didn't look up as Harry entered and Harry couldn't help the tiny twinge of guilt that spiked though him.

He found a rickety looking desk chair, pulling it out. He cautiously sat down on it, facing Remus.

"Remus?" he started, softly. "Remus, what are you doing in here?" It was Sirius's childhood room; he never set foot in it while in the Order. He hadn't wanted to associate with the past, instead choosing one of the other seven bedrooms to stay in.

"I've failed you, Harry. I failed them all." His voice was so low, Harry had to strain to hear it, even with his impeccable hearing. His eyes widened.

"I couldn't save them. James, Lily...Sirius. Even my own wife. And now you."

Harry grimaced. "God, Remus. Don't say that. That's morbid thinking."

Remus finally turned his head, locking eyes with Harry. "It is a morbid and wicked world we live in."

Harry frowned, standing. "Remus, look. I'm sorry for what happened. I was upset, I'm not going to lie. But don't look at me like that and tell me you failed me, or _them_. Shit happens. People die. It's fucking cruel and unfair but you can't do this to me, Remus, not now. You're the only family I have.

"I've lost everything and everyone I've ever loved or cared for. So have you, but you still have a life and connections. I have none of that. Only you and Teddy, so please, don't you get all depressed on me right now. I need you." His voice broke and he looked imploringly at Remus. He hadn't realized until that moment that if something were to happen to Remus, he really would have no one.

Remus stood, looking miserable. "I'm sorry I told Hermione. I know you feel like I betrayed you-"

"Remus, it's OK. You don't have to. Forget about it OK? I trust you, and I trust Hermione. I know you would never purposely hurt me."

Remus screwed his face into a pained expression. His eyes blurred slightly and he found himself unable to look at Harry.

Harry just grabbed Remus, pulling him into a hug. He could feel Remus breaking down, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly. Harry held tight, blinking back tears of his own.

"Oh, what a mess I am!" Remus exclaimed, finally pulling away. He turned away from Harry, wiping at his eyes.

"You're no such thing. Come on, let's go downstairs. I think Teddy is worried."

Remus nodded and followed Harry downstairs.

* * *

_C.S.- Thanks for the review! Sorry if that bit was confusing. What Snape meant was he was basically going to screw Harry's brains out(excuse the crudeness lol) so he didn't want Harry complaining about it after if he was sore or whatever :) I'm not really going to go into Harry's back story much further, but let's just assume he was able to get with someone while he was still in school. He was 17 at that time so I don't think it inplausible that he would be able to fool around back then. And because I rarely do het, I'm going to say it was with another guy :D Thanks again, hope to enjoy the next chapter!_


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Pairing: HP/SS

Author's notes: Thanks once more for all the reviews! Sorry for the length of this chapter- I had to split it up somewhere, and this was the best spot. For all warnings, summary and disclaimer, see Prologue.

* * *

Harry sat in the oversized armchair, wand idly lying on his lap. His arms were folded and his expression closed off. He didn't really notice how long he'd been sitting there, just staring at nothing.

He inclined his head to the other occupant in the room, soundly snoring on the antiquated loveseat. Remus had dozed off long ago, leaving Harry to his thoughts.

He had anticipated on returning to Snape's almost immediately after his rendezvous with Remus and Hermione, but he didn't want to appear off-putting, especially with Remus giving him remorseful looks every five seconds.

So he stayed, chatting with Remus about all sorts of nonsense. He did learn more about what happened while he was away-including the awful circumstances surrounding Remus's removal from his own home. Harry fumed in silence as Remus described in a sadly pleasant voice how it could have been worse. Damn Remus and his persistent optimism.

He glanced at the mantle clock, sighing. He didn't think Snape would be sleeping yet- when did he ever? Harry assumed Snape was waiting with bated breath to hear his story- and whether Remus was still alive. Harry snorted.

He silently rose from the comfortable chair, grabbing his cloak and glasses on the way out the front door. His breath came out in wisps as he escaped the confines of Grimmauld Place and onto the freezing streets of London.

He apparated without even a pop and appeared perfectly in front of Snape's door. He smiled at seeing the faint familiar glow of candlelight through the frosted windows.

Knocking lightly, he wasn't surprised to have the door flung open half a second later. He inwardly smiled at the expectant look on Snape's face.

"Potter."

Or not. He sighed as he stepped past the taller man and into the parlor.

"Hello, Severus." He found he liked how that sounded on his tongue. Snape merely arched a brow but did not correct the younger man. Harry found himself smiling once again.

"What happened?"

Straight to the chase then. Harry gestured to the sofas, already plopping down on the closest one. He ran a hand through his hair, allowing the tendrils to splay in whatever direction they saw best.

After Snape was seated, Harry told him the whole story. He didn't want to appear weak and he hoped Snape wouldn't question his forgiveness of Remus.

But the man said nothing at all. He was quiet throughout the story, never taking his eyes off of Harry even as the younger man ranted incoherently at times.

Now Snape sat in stony silence, his eyes glazed over in thought. Harry tried not to squirm but the silence was grating on his nerves.

"Snape?"

Black eyes flickered to green ones. "Mmm?"

"You seem quiet." _Smart, Potter_.

Snape crossed his arms and leaned back. "There is not much to be said, I'm afraid. Lupin is a fool."

Harry frowned. "Remus is my friend. And the only one I have," he ventured.

Snape did not rise to the bait. "You are right, of course. You may do as you please; it is your life as you know. And for once, I am not in charge of your well-being."

Harry blinked in confusion. Something was clearly the matter with Snape. This did not appear to be the same man who took such diligent care of him the previous night. This person seemed uncomfortably and inexplicably distant.

He took a risk. Rising from his seat, he went to the opposite sofa and straddled himself onto Snape's lap. The older man looked up in mild surprise but did not deter Harry.

Harry settled himself flush against the other man's thighs, their chests inches apart. Leaning forward slightly, he whispered in the other man's ear.

"I want to thank you for taking care of me before. I owe you big time."

He felt Snape's hot breath on his neck. He closed his eyes in contentment and was pleasantly pleased to feel both of Snape's hands on his back. The long experienced fingers moved up and down his bent back, sending shivers through Harry's frame.

"No thanks are necessary. Neither are your pathetic attempts at diversion."

Harry smiled to himself. The inflection in Snape's tone clearly told him his worries were at least partially unfounded.

"Severus," he hissed. Arousal flamed in him as he felt Snape grow hard underneath him. The gentle hands on his back grew bolder and more firm. He shut his eyes and ground himself tightly against Snape.

Snape's hands paused at Harry's hips, clenching and holding the younger man in place. The sigh was strained but filled with pleasure. Harry paused even as Snape's hands moved from his back to his head, the ink-blotched fingers kneading through the mess of hair.

"Harry", he whispered fervently. "Why did it have to be you? The constant thorn in my side... Why not some nameless face who didn't know me or my past. Someone older..."

Harry stilled in disbelief. He pulled back slightly to stare at Snape, a frown marking his flawless skin. He saw nothing in Snape's eyes but pleasure and resignation.

"What-," came the strangled reply.

Snape merely kissed him. Harry's brain froze up even as his body melted. He knew he should keep questioning Snape; it was all so confusing. But his lips responded greedily and he gave up for the moment.

He allowed Snape to take him to bed. There had been no more words exchanged, no morose revelations to ruin the moment. And Harry was left as confused as ever upon returning to Remus's before dawn.

***

Harry sat at the kitchen table, nervously gnawing on his lower lip. He barely even took notice of Teddy eating his late dinner, or when Remus entered the room with enough noise to raise the dead. The only sound to jar him from his thoughts was the unmistakable one of a floo opening.

He froze as his sensitive ears picked up the muted conversation from two rooms over. So Hermione had come. And right on time. He really hadn't expected anything different.

He thought to greet her but his body would not cooperate. So he sat steadily, eyeing Teddy as he happily scooped chunks of chocolate cake into his mouth. He barely remembered the taste of chocolate cake. He sighed, suddenly weary.

Remus came in a moment later, followed by a less depressed looking Hermione. She immediately smiled upon seeing Harry. It was so genuine, Harry couldn't help but respond in kind.

"Hey, Hermione." He stood finally, allowing her to wrap him in her arms.

"Oh, Harry. You don't know how good it is to see you again." She quickly wiped at her eyes and sat down on the seat next to him.

"Come, Teddy. You can finish up in the library." Teddy obediently followed Remus out the kitchen, leaving just Harry and Hermione.

Harry could tell she was nervous, but not of him. She was most likely bursting at the seams with questions she's had stored for years. He smiled in reassurance.

"I've missed you, 'Mione."

Hermione looked like she would burst into tears any moment, so Harry tried to find a topic to start off with that wasn't so depressing.

"So I hear you're a mum now," he said with a smile.

Hermione smiled back. "Yes. Two boys. They are quite a handful."

"Oh, I'm sure you can handle them, Hermione. You were always good at mothering us when we were younger," he said in remembrance.

She laughed. "Indeed. You and Ron were worse, I'm sure."

"No!" Harry jested. Looking back, he cringed at some of the things they put Hermione through. It was a miracle they made it through school at all.

Hermione looked at Harry then. Really looked. He knew he was being examined. It wasn't everyday you saw a vampire. Especially one sitting mere inches from you. He allowed the scrutiny, even as Hermione blushed.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I don't mean to stare. It's just...well, you look so different- yet the same. It's odd. And your eyes..."

"Am I making you uncomfortable?"

She shook her head. "No, you just look so...exotic."

Harry blinked. "What?"

She blushed a deep scarlet. "Well, you do. It's a compliment, Harry. I didn't mean anything by it." She looked away, clearly embarrassed.

Harry smiled wider. "Hermione, are you calling me attractive?"

If possible, she blushed even deeper. Then she saw the look on his face and her eyes narrowed.

"Oh Harry! Honestly...don't make fun."

He snickered. "I'm sorry. It's just funny to hear you say that. No one has really ever commented on my appearance before."

"Well, I imagine you do not let people get that close to you."

Harry felt his own blush coming on, but he staved it off. He gave Hermione a mostly truthful answer.

"You're right. It would be too risky." She nodded in understanding. Then she reached over and fluffed his hair.

He pulled back slightly, laughing. "Yea, I know. It's a mess. But I can't cut it myself and I can't exactly go to a salon."

Hermione cocked her head. "I can do it for you, if you like. But I kind of like it long. It suits you."

Harry quirked the corner of his lip. "You think so?"

She nodded. "It hides a lot of your face. Makes it look less translucent and subdues the green of your eyes. Not to mention the lovely way it frames your face." The last was clearly said in jest and Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"Thank you for that clinical assessment, Hermione. Perhaps I will leave it for a while then. Wizards are supposed to have long hair anyway right?"

She smiled but it seemed sad so Harry took her hand in his and led her to the more comfortable bedroom on the third floor. She sat on his bed while he regaled her with his tale. She sat in complete silence and by the end her cheeks were stained with trails of silent tears.

"I'm sorry to upset you so, 'Mione."

She looked incredulous blurry eyes at Harry and chastised him with her expression alone.

"I just can't believe it," she said, mostly to herself.

"I still can't," Harry stated with a half-hearted laugh.

After a long pause, Hermione stared at Harry, her brow furrowing in question.

"Harry...How did you know where to find Remus?"

Harry silently congratulated himself for not startling. He calmly looked at Hermione, allowing a shrug.

"I'm not oblivious to rumors. I know Sirius would have wanted Remus to have it, even if I couldn't."

He could sense that the answer didn't quite appease her, but she moved on.

"Did you know Remus is getting a dose of Wolfsbane every month?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, he mentioned it. It's wonderful."

Hermione smiled. "It's not just wonderful, Harry, it's a miracle. I've looked it over and I still can't describe all the changes this new Wolfsbane has gone through. Whoever created it must be a genius. I've never seen Remus look better after the full moon."

Harry stored the information in his mind, calmly agreeing with Hermione. Then he noticed the clock and jumped.

"Jeez, Hermione, it's past three! Ron must be having a heart attack by now!"

She just looked curiously at the clock before shrugging. "Don't worry about it. I told him I was babysitting Teddy while Remus went on a date." She smiled mischievously.

Harry shook his head. "Come on, you'd better go. You look really tired."

She yawned then and they both laughed. They went downstairs where all was silent. Hermione stood in front of the floo and hugged Harry before placing a kiss on his cheek.

"There are no words for how happy I am, Harry."

He kissed her back, promising to see her soon. She departed and Harry went to find Remus. The man was already sleeping so Harry apparated to Snape's house.

It was entirely dark inside and out so Harry assumed the man was asleep as well. He felt bad for barging in and waking him up so he despondently went back to Grimmauld Place. He was entirely bored so he settled on reading a Dark Arts book from the massive collection in the library.

At nearly dawn he trudged his way up to the third floor where he promptly fell asleep, promising to himself to visit Snape the moment he woke up.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Pairing: HP/SS

Author's notes: So sorry for the delay. My kitty got sick with seizures and I couldn't concentrate or even think about writing until she got better. Thank you for your patience. This is the last chapter and then there will be an epilogue of sorts. Thank you once again for all your reviews! For all warnings, summary and disclaimer, see Prologue.

* * *

Harry watched the older man eat in wonder. He had never seen anybody eat so meticulously. Each piece of steak was delicately cut into even pieces and carefully placed on the tongue without a drop spilt on the lip or chin. It was bizarre.

Snape ate in silence that did nothing for Harry's nerves. He had been invited in at eight and the man proceeded to have a late dinner. Harry tried not to gag on the scent of browned meat and sauce.

He sat opposite Snape at the tiny kitchen table, thumping his fingers on the edge. He allowed the man five whole bitefuls before he blurted out the question he'd been curious about for a while.

"Severus, are you brewing Wolfsbane for Remus?" It came out a tad louder than he anticipated and cringed outwardly as Snape stopped mid-bite to calmly but effectively glare at Harry.

"Whatever gave you that impression?" he asked in complete nonchalance.

Harry frowned. "Well, it's just that Remus is getting his potion from some mysterious brewer who won't even give up a name. Supposedly the potion works wonders and Remus is beyond thrilled. It seems a bit suspicious, that's all."

Snape finished chewing, then carefully wiped the non-existent stain off his mouth with a napkin.

"Are you insinuating that I have nothing better to do with my time than to continue to brew that dreaded potion to an insufferable ex-enemy?"

Actually, that was exactly what Harry was insinuating, but the way Snape was glaring at him, he wasn't quite so sure anymore.

"Fine, don't tell me. But if you are, then thank you. You have no idea how much it means to him, and me."

"I'm _so_ thrilled to hear that the mongrel is doing so well," Snape replied sarcastically.

"Don't be a jerk, Snape." Harry narrowed his eyes. "And speaking of which, do you mind explaining what precisely you meant the other night?"

Snape sighed, exasperated. His eyes met Harry's and Harry took the awaited opportunity to carefully lunge into Snape's mind. Unfortunately, Snape somehow expected just that and Harry was blocked instantly. The expression on Snape's face did not bode well.

"You little cretin. I have decades of skill on you. Do you honestly think your sudden fledgling skills can penetrate my own?" He appeared displeased but hardly what Harry would call furious.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh please, Snape. Like you haven't raped my mind on numerous occasions all those years ago. Flat on my knees, sweat pouring down my face. Bet you liked that. You loved watching me suffer," he finished vehemently.

Snape appeared guarded. "I am no sadist, Potter. But I can't abide morons who do not wish to learn. It _was_ your own fault."

"I was fifteen!" Harry was on his feet now. "Not everyone entered Hogwarts a master in the Dark Arts, Snape. Did you perhaps think your expectations were too fucking high?"

"Cease your shouting, Potter." Snape stood as well, still nearly a foot taller than the vampire.

"What do you want, Potter?"

"Excuse me?" Harry had no idea where this was heading. Snape sighed in aggravation.

"Let me remind you of something, Potter. You have forever, while I do not. I am old, and you shall never be. Believe it or not, I have no wish to saddle myself with someone who will up and leave one day when your needs-sexual and nutritious-are met. You may think I abhor my quiet little existence, but you are sorely mistaken. Now I have offered you my own blood so a little honest courteously would be appreciated."

Harry gawked at Snape, eyes wide in disbelief. He didn't know whether to curse the man, or kiss him silly. Who knew that under all the layers of disdain and pride, there was an actual human being in there.

His eyes welled as they took in Snape's and his lips pursed.

"Do you still take me for an immature teenager with no thought for anyone's feelings or kindness? I'm deeply offended you think so little of me, Severus. That you would condemn me without hearing me first or even asking me my opinion. Forgive me for my attempt at reading your thoughts.

"You see, I though it was _you_ who had grown wary of me and I merely wanted a truthful answer from you. If you are that troubled by my constant presence, I will leave you alone. But please do not think I am only here because it is a convenience for me.

"I will kill if I have to, but the mere thought of hurting you- especially after everything you have done for me- is appalling to even contemplate. Don't look at me like that, Severus. No one, and I mean _no one_ has done for me what you have done. And I'm not just talking about after the war.

"You protected me when I didn't even like you, let alone trust you. You put up with me for years and now, you're doing it again. And once again, you've saved my life. The truth is...I'm happy to be here...with you. I'm the happiest here that I've been in almost a decade. I assumed you were not completely opposed to my being here, nor found the idea of me repulsive.

"I understand if you wish I was older. Or wiser. Or whatever it is that would be up to your standards. I shall cease being a thorn in your side, as you so bluntly put it."

He was surprised he made it through his rambling without breaking once. But the sight of a blank looking Snape did it for him. He was out the door before Snape knew what was happening.

Wiping angrily at his eyes, he apparated to the first town that came to mind. Darkness and cold air greeted him, as well as a few possibilities.

A pretty boy propositioned him but he declined. That was not what he wanted tonight. He found his next meal in an alleyway at the edge of town. A large skulking poor excuse for a human being. Murderer. Rapist, Pedophile. Dinner.

Harry fed quickly, dropping the large weight to the freezing cobblestone. His body was sated but he felt off. He realized right away why. It was not Snape's blood.

He looked up at the black sky, at the bright moon, so perfectly visible with his vampire eyes. He cursed as he took in the almost perfect circle. One more night and then the full moon. His first with Remus since his return. He sighed and went to Grimmauld Place.

Remus was in the library reading when Harry walked in. He didn't look up from his book.

"Hello, Harry. Your scent is stronger to me right now. I could smell you from outdoors."

Harry didn't respond and Remus finally looked up.

"Harry?"

Harry licked his lips.

"Remus, I think I'm in love."

Unsurprised but curious eyes calmly gazed back. "It's not with me, is it?"

Harry's smile came unbidden. "Thank you, Remus. I needed that."

"Come here."

Harry slowly walked over to Remus and plopped down on the soft rug in front of where Remus sat.

"What happened?"

Harry sighed. "I'm a vampire. He's mortal."

"He?"

Harry nodded, carefully gouging Remus's reaction. None came.

"There must be more."

"It's complicated. Well, not really, but it is slightly infuriating." He groaned and mussed his hair with both hands.

"Harry, does this man love you back?"

Harry looked up despondently. "I don't know. It's complicated." He sighed.

"Yes, so you've said." Remus brought a hand to his chin as if in thought.

"We've only been...together for a very short while. I'm not even sure how it came to be. It's-"

"Complicated, yes."

Harry frowned up at Remus. "Don't make fun."

"I would never. But every problem has a solution. We just need to figure it out."

Harry groaned again and lay flat on the floor, eyes up at the cracked ceiling.

"Remus, I'm not sure there is one. See, this man...well, he can be difficult at times. It's not who I envisioned ever being in a relationship with. Ever."

"Love doesn't work that way, Harry. Once it starts, you can't change its course."

"God, you sound like Dumbledore."

Remus laughed softly. "Tell me, Harry. Did you meet this man after you became a vampire?"

Harry started. There was no answer that would not raise suspicion. Or more questions. He licked his lips.

"Let's just say I've known him for a while."

"Fair enough", said Remus. "So he clearly does not mind you being a-"

He stopped so suddenly, Harry raised his head in alarm.

"Remus?"

Remus's eyes dawned in understanding. "You've been feeding from him? Your lover?"

Harry silently liked the way that word sounded. Lover.

He nodded in answer. "He offered. I was shocked that he had. But now it's just so addictive. And he doesn't mind one bit. It is a great gift."

"And you still don't know if this man loves you?"

Harry looked away. "He's hard to read."

Remus said nothing. Harry decided to change the topic to something slightly more important.

"Remus, what do you do when you transform?"

Remus shifted slightly in his chair. "Well, Hermione usually comes over to stay with Teddy. I usually stay locked in my room."

As Remus spoke, a quiet tapping noise sounded from across the room. Frowning, Harry stood and made his way over to the window where an unrecognizable owl hovered impatiently.

Still frowning, Harry turned his head. "Remus, there's an owl."

"Yes, and right on time. It's my Wolfsbane."

"Oh." Harry unlatched the slightly frozen window, allowing the hooting owl to come through. It landed on the arm of Remus's chair, almost as if it belonged there, and Remus carefully untied the slender package attached to its leg.

As soon as the package was taken, the owl flew off and out the window. Harry turned to Remus.

"He never stays, not even to rest." Shrugging, Remus opened the carefully wrapped package to reveal a plain-looking corked vial. Smiling, he settled it on his lap without inspecting it.

"No note?" Harry asked.

"Not today. He only writes when there has been some information for me on his progress. I told you he wishes to improve the formula."

"Oh." It sounded lame to his own ears. Harry knew Snape was the one making the Wolfsbane. It was all too convenient. Harry almost told Remus then and there but refrained. Almost nothing can kill a vampire, but with Snape, he could never really be sure...

"I can stay and watch Teddy, you know. Since I'll be up all night anyway," Harry finished with a grin.

Remus smiled back. "That is good of you to offer, Harry, but if Hermione doesn't come, Ron will be suspicious."

Harry hadn't thought of that. He nodded in understanding and took his seat on the floor once more. He was antsy for no apparent reason. He dearly wanted to see Snape again, but the man was a closed book and Harry didn't know what to do about it.

Truthfully, Snape was pissing him off-insinuating all sorts of nonsense. What he said to Remus was true- he had fallen in love with the man. It was very odd to think of love and Snape in the same sentence. He certainly didn't intend it. And he could hardly just tell him.

He wanted to throttle the man for being so obtuse. Harry wasn't a child anymore. He had seen and done things he was not proud of. Snape of all people should understand that. Then why was Snape still treating him like a fifteen year old annoyance?

At first, Harry thought that Snape felt obligated in some way towards him. He saved him so many times in school, during the war, probably other times Harry didn't even know about. Then he saved him from the aurors. He could have easily been caught and killed that night.

He saved him from killing people. To offer one's own blood to a vampire is the darkest form of surrender. He wasn't lying to Snape when he said it would be addictive. Maybe Snape was feeling regretful. But Snape was never hasty in his decision-making before. He didn't really think Snape would appease Harry for time in bed. Or would he...

Harry groaned for the umpteenth time. He looked up and Remus was already buried in a book. He hadn't even noticed when that happened. Swiftly getting to his feet, he told Remus he was going for a walk.

"It's two below out there, Harry," the werewolf warned, flipping a page.

Harry only smiled. "It's perfect." Finding his glasses in his pocket, he grabbed his muggle pea-coat and stepped outside.

The temperature was not a bother, though Harry imagined how cold it must feel. His breath came out in wisps and his hair whipped around his face annoyingly. The streets were, of course deserted- for who in their right mind would choose to be out here in a storm? But Harry did not mind. He walked to clear his mind and to think of a plan.

Unfortunately for him, his planning went out the window when he came back two hours later to find Snape and Remus at Grimmauld Place together-having tea.

His mind blanked and he stood there like a statue staring at the surreal scene in horror and disbelief. The two men sat in the kitchen calmly and quietly conversing, drinking their Earl Gray as if it were a perfectly normal occurrence.

Remus spotted him first. "Oh, Harry. I didn't even hear you come in."

Snape slowly turned his head, for his back was to Harry, and his face was surprisingly blank. Harry's mouth must have dropped open at some point since Snape remarked, "You'll catch flies if you remain thus, Potter."

Harry blinked and licked his lips- an annoying human behavior that he retained even through immortality.

"What..."

Both Remus and Snape raised a brow- simultaneously. He tried that again.

"What the hell..." Well, at least it was more of a complete sentence.

"Potter, stop sputtering and sit down," barked Snape. That snapped Harry out of whatever dream he thought he was in.

"What's going on here? What are you doing here, Snape? And what are you doing with _him_?" The last was directed to Remus who continued to sit so casually at ease.

"Harry, do sit. Severus has only just arrived. What, about twenty minutes ago?" he asked the darker man. Snape nodded offhandedly.

This was mental, thought Harry. Not real. Can't be.

He moved forward towards the table, his hands automatically reaching for the empty chair. He grabbed it but remained standing.

"Severus came looking for you, Harry", Remus started. Harry frowned in disbelief.

"Remus, did you know Snape was living?" Perhaps the best question to start with.

Remus glanced at Snape. "Well, I've always had my suspicions. A lack of corpse was the biggest one. That, and I recognized his script immediately from his correspondence." He smiled as he stared at Snape's sneering face.

"Really, Severus. You're handwriting is something to be desired. I could barely read your scrawl," he finished with a wider smile.

Snape didn't look entirely pleased. "Shut it, Lupin. Be grateful that-"

"Oh I did not say I was not grateful, Severus. I am indebted to you, as always. I am just happy that I can tell you thank you in person."

Snape waved him off. "Enough of these sickening pleasantries. I need to speak with Potter alone."

Remus nodded and smiled as he stood. He leaned into Harry as he whispered, "And I detected his scent on you on numerous occasions." Harry was almost positive he gave a wink as he departed the room.

Though vampires don't sweat, Harry suddenly felt as if his insides were boiling and his face was on fire. Nonsense, of course. But Harry was definitely nervous as hell.

"You braved exposure to come here. To see me." It was hardly a question but Snape must have read his expression, for his features softened slightly.

"Don't be so sentimental. I knew perfectly well Lupin wouldn't tell anyone. He's too righteous for his own good." His tone lacked the usual venom when referencing the werewolf. Harry inwardly smiled.

"So why are you here?"

Snape looked down at his tea, his hand idly circling the cup rim. Harry patiently waited.

"I believe I was...unfair to you, before. It was rash of me to blindly insinuate your intentions. I am...not unhappy with you. Just unused to it." He paused and his eyes met Harry's.

"No matter what you decide, I will not retract my offer. My blood is yours."

Harry just stared. Inside, he was elated and relieved. But outwardly...

"I want all of you." He could survive the rejection. After all, it was _very_ hard to kill a vampire.

Snape's eyes revealed that the admission was not so surprising after all. But Harry saw hesitancy there as well. The older man licked his lower lip twice before responding.

"Do you want me because you feel you cannot have anyone else?"

Ouch. "Don't start in that vein, Severus. I do not toy with people. And I would never dare with you. It is too frightening a concept to even think about. I am not a child anymore, Severus. Sometimes, I don't think I ever was- I can barely even remember it."

He finally took the seat vacated by Remus. "Severus, I realize I may not be ideal. I understand your reservations. But I stand by what I told you before. You know me like no one else does. I don't think anyone ever will either. I've poured my soul out to you. That bond cannot be erased. Tell me what to do, Severus. I'll do it. Like Remus, I too am indebted to you," he finished resolutely.

Snape looked momentarily stunned. "Don't be ridiculous. You've saved my life by ending the war. If anything, it is I who must pay you back."

Harry blinked at the perfect opportunity. "You already have."

Snape started to argue, but Harry cut him off by suddenly leaning forward over the table and pressing his lips to Snape's shocked ones. He barely registered that he was fully laying atop the table until they separated. Snape had a pleasant blush on his cheeks that Harry found absolutely enticing. He released a slow breath.

"I do want you, Severus," he said more seriously.

"Now?"

Harry barked out a laugh. Snape's eyes turned mischievous and Harry's relief must have shown for Snape grabbed the sides of Harry's face and kissed him good and proper.

"Very well, my immortal devil. Shall we return home?" Snape asked after they parted for the fifth time. Harry bit his lower lip, smiled, and nodded.


	13. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Pairing: HP/SS

Author's notes: This is it, folks. The very last piece of this fic. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you once again for all your reviews over the course of the fic! They were all greatly appreciated. For all warnings, summary and disclaimer, see Prologue.

* * *

Twelve years later...

Harry stared out the tiny window from his seat by the bed. Twilight had finally set in, the last rays of the summer sun setting behind the hazy low hung clouds. A loud sigh had Harry immediately focused on the figure lying on the bed.

Snape turned his head in sleep, and Harry relaxed, unclenching his jaw. His hands, folded neatly in his lap, began to fidget. Licking his lips he checked the clock on the wall. Not quite time yet. He reclined slightly in the chair, his eyes flicking to the nearby nightstand littered with potion bottles.

Downstairs he could hear the old record player softly turning out an opera piece. Harry didn't know which anymore. Severus had way too many records nowadays. The music floated pleasantly up the stairs into the small bedroom and for a moment, Harry felt at peace. He shut his eyes and just listened to the beautiful voices, hearing, but not understanding. But with opera, it was all about the music, not the language. Love is a universal language.

Harry swallowed deeply as the room sank into complete darkness. He had no idea how long he'd been sitting there, just staring. Severus still slept, seemingly at peace. The clock chimed with a shrill sound.

Harry pursed his lips at the interruption. He glanced at the bed in dismay, noticing the other man rousing from his slumber. He felt pained. A three hour nap, uninterrupted. A rare occurrence indeed. He slowly rose out of his chair and sat on the edge of the bed.

Severus rubbed at his eyes in irritation. He coughed slightly and Harry was there, water in hand. Severus thanked him with a nod and greedily drank from the cup.

With shaking fingers he handed the cup back to Harry. The older man looked at the nightstand and sighed. Then he looked at Harry. The expression was the same every day, and without fail, it physically hurt Harry to see it.

"Please, Severus. Not today. Here." He handed the first vial over and averted his eyes as Severus gulped it with a grimace. A larger vial was passed. Coughing ensued. Harry did turn then to look at his lover, his brows furrowing with worry. Severus waved him off.

"I'm fine."

Harry nodded while screaming on the inside. No, Severus. You are not fine. You die a little every day. He allowed a smile as he passed yet another vial. Severus did not take it.

"Severus..."

"I can't. There is no damn point to this. Do you enjoy seeing me like this?"

It hurt. Jaw clenched, Harry insistently thrust the vial out. Snape shook his head before laying back against the propped pillows. Harry refrained from sighing.

"Severus, please. Don't make me beg again." He would. He had. And he'd do it again.

"Harry, it's useless. We both know this." He licked his lips and Harry wondered at what he wouldn't say. He didn't ask. He never did.

Harry carefully placed the vial on top of the nightstand, his throat constricting painfully. He observed the man on the bed carefully. It was hard not to see the changes that had ravaged the older man.

The strong face, so commanding once long ago was lined with fatigue and more gaunt than Harry had ever seen it, the unhealthily glow of death etched into every crevice. A body so frail that he needed aid just getting out of bed every day. Food was barely kept down and it seemed no appetite was left.

Harry did not like seeing Severus like this. He did not like knowing the cancer had spread like an inescapable wildfire, burning through Severus's body like kindle. He had not liked finding out that wizards can indeed develop the same diseases as muggles.

His half-blooded Prince...he had taken the news remarkably well. He must have known. Known that he was at risk.

"I am only a half-blood. It is to be expected. I believe there was a history in the family..."

Harry had stormed out of the house, angry at himself. Angry with Severus. While Harry slept, Severus had gone to a muggle hospital, Remus in tow. There are some things potions or magic cannot cure. Severus had found that out soon enough.

Harry had come back the next night, begging forgiveness.

"Do not be so melodramatic, Potter. I shall be fine."

Liar. Harry grimaced in remembrance.

A knock sounded downstairs. Harry sighed but left Severus's side without a word.

He found Teddy at the door, groceries in hand. Harry stepped to the side, letting the teen pass.

"How much do I owe you?"

Teddy shrugged. "Don't worry about it. It wasn't much. Besides, dad would kill me if I took money from you."

Harry huffed. "Teddy, just don't tell him. You're doing me a favor here. I can't exactly go to the market myself."

Teddy ignored him, instead indicating the stairs with his head.

"How is he, today? He whispered. Harry swallowed and shook his head.

"Stubborn, of course. Like every day." The attempt at humor failed miserably and he found his chest constricting.

"Harry, this is killing him," Teddy said quietly. Harry knew he wasn't referring to the cancer. He released a shaky breath and motioned outside.

The air was sticky with humidity as they sat on the front stoop. Harry knew he should be getting back to Severus.

"I don't know what else to do. Hermione has exhausted herself in research. I can only be of some help."

Teddy looked at the ground. "I know it's killing you too, Harry." He sighed then, cautiously glancing at Harry. "But...well, there's always-"

"No." Harry stood. "No. Out of the question. I may be so selfish as to damn myself further, but I would never do it to Severus. He has never even-"

Teddy looked away, ashamed. He nodded, telling Harry he should get back.

"Tell your dad I said hi." Harry saw Teddy nod and dissaparate. Harry went back upstairs.

He found Severus awake and reading. "Teddy brought food. Would you like me to make you something?"

"No. Thank you."

Harry gritted his teeth but nodded. He himself had not fed for a couple of days. He couldn't bear to leave Severus's side, even for a few hours. But he could not get his meals from Severus anymore, so it had been back to Knockturn. He was shocked at how revolting blood had tasted when it had not been from Severus. But he had no choice now.

He sat down in his chair and watched Severus. Weeks, the doctor had told Remus and Severus during his last appointment. Months, maybe.

"Stop it, Harry."

Harry blinked, not even noticing the streaks on his face. His lips were moist. Bloody and tasteless. He didn't bother wiping them away. Severus resumed his reading.

"Did Theodore bring any chocolate?"

Harry started, sitting up in his chair. Severus was staring at him, book still open in his hands. Harry stood, quickly.

"I'll go check for you." He swept out of the room and down to the kitchen. He sifted through the brown bags until he found what he was looking for. One foil-wrapped dark chocolate bar. He found himself smiling despite everything. He practically ran upstairs.

He happily handed the bar to Severus, who immediately unwrapped it.

"You will have to thank Remus for me, of course. I know he makes that boy buy it all the time."

Harry smiled. "Well, you know how Remus is. Thinks chocolate is the cure for everything. And you can thank him yourself next time he stops by."

Severus paused mid-bite. He did not look up at Harry, choosing the book instead. He settled back in the pillows, chocolate bar in hand.

Harry blinked. "What? What was that?"

"Nothing."

Harry grew alarmed. "WHAT?"

An exasperated Snape looked up. "Harry, we both know there won't be a next time."

Harry felt as if a mountain troll had punched him in his stomach. He stood rooted to the floor unable to process what Severus was telling him. After an agonizing minute of shock, he stared into Severus's eyes.

"I love you, Harry. Have I ever told you?"

Oh God. Harry crumbled to the floor, not caring what Severus thought of him. His body was wracked with heavy sobs and he was startled to feel deceptively strong arms wrapped around him. He looked up to find Severus kneeling next to him.

"God, Severus, don't." He hurriedly wiped at his face as he tried to get a grip on Severus's shoulders.

"Harry, stop," he whispered in his ear. Harry felt long fingers raking through his hair, back and forth. It felt soothing. He allowed himself to lean against the older man's chest. Soft hair tickled his cheeks and he found his fingers wrapped around a silver strand. Even Severus's hair was not immune to the stress.

Harry's tears did not stop for a while. Still, Severus held him, propped against the side of the bed, playing with his dark locks, whispering soothing words in his ear.

"Severus," Harry sniffed.

"I'm here."

"No. You won't be. You won't be. You're leaving me, already. I can feel it in your beating heart and I see it on your face. Every day you leave a little bit more. You're breaking your promise to me, Severus. You told me you never would. You told me." He knew he was rambling, acting like the coward he was. So damn selfish. Severus was the one dying here. Then why did it feel the opposite?

Harry pulled away, coming face to face with the man he cared for more than anyone.

"What do you want me to do, Harry?"

Harry's eyes widened. The rhetorical question was staring him in the face. The question and answer to both their happiness.

"Nothing." Coward, indeed.

Snape shook him. "Damn it, Harry! Just tell me. What do you. Want me to do?" Harry tried not to read anything in those black eyes.

"I just want you to live. I want you to stay with me." He leaned away.

"Fuck! I know I sound like a selfish asshole. I am so sorry." He wiped at his eyes, angry at himself for acting this way in front of Severus of all people.

Severus licked his lips, the motion so deliberate and cautious, it made Harry pause.

"I would have never thought..."

Harry refused to breath, never mind the fact that vampires don't actually need to.

Severus began again. "You've never even hinted at the possibility. I could only begin to wonder how traumatizing it would be for you."

Harry put his face into his hands with a grimace. "It would be more so, to lose you." The words came out muffled, but Severus heard them nonetheless.

"I have no wish to be parted from you."

"Even if it means death of another kind?" Harry looked through blurred vision at the man in front of him.

"I would find no peace behind the veil. Not without you."

Harry shot to his feet. "That isn't an answer! I can't- I _won't_ do this if you despise me for the rest of eternity!"

"I am days away from death, Harry. But I have had months to think. There has ever only been one answer. My human life was bearable because you were there. But I would understand your trepidation. The decision is entirely yours. If you refuse, it would change nothing of how I feel about you. In this life, or the next."

Harry turned away, hand clutching at his throat. The tears pooled endlessly behind his closed lids, but really, there was never any decision. All he needed was for Severus to ask him. Damnation was long gone from his mind. All he cared about was what Severus thought.

Turning slowly, he looked down at the man sitting patiently on the floor, awaiting his doom, whatever it may be.

"Alright."

A smile, the first in weeks had Harry kneeling in a blink. Relief had settled in the potion master's eyes, as if the pain of the past two years was nothing more than a terrible dream. Harry reached over and took the other man's hand.

"I can't promise this won't hurt," he warned the other man. Severus didn't even flinch.

"Try servitude under Voldemort."

Harry actually smiled. He searched Severus's eyes for a last confirmation. He saw acceptance, not resignation. He carefully gathered the man in his arms and pressed his lips to the pulsing vein in his neck. Squeezing his eyes shut, he carefully pierced the skin.

***

Severus opened his eyes and looked up at the dark ceiling. What he actually saw was every crack, stain, and crevice that stood out like a soar thumb. How he never before noticed the imperfections, he wasn't sure.

He breathed in the air but felt his senses assaulted as he smelt every odor within ten feet of him. The smell of soil, of sweat, of old. Potent potion ingredients. Calming draught, numbing potion, something powdery. He smelled the wood of the floor beneath his body. It was almost too much at once.

"You'll get used to it."

Severus lurched off the floor, eyes darting madly to the other figure in the room. The face looked so familiar but it was impossible that it was the same Harry. His Harry.

His eyes glowed, a million swirling variations of green embers. More pretty than any jewel. Hair that looked like spun silk, flowing perfectly around his face- a face that he was so sure was without a single flaw.

But no, there were marks, there were scars. So pale and so masked that a human eye would never notice. And still exotic and beyond compare.

"Harry?" His voice sounded strange. The same, but clearer, louder. He heard Harry swallow.

"Are you alright?"

The boy was frightened. Frightened that something was wrong. Yet, the pain was gone. Severus released a shaky breath. No, definitely gone. His chest didn't hurt anymore when he breathed. His body no longer felt weak. Severus in fact had never felt better. He was alive. He would not die. He could not die.

"I feel..."

"Yes?" Harry got to his feet, towering over the kneeling man.

"Exhilarating."

Harry sniffled. And then again. The boy was crying. Severus had hoped never to hear that heart-breaking sound again. He stood up in front of Harry and extended his arms. Harry immediately lunged at him.

"Oh God, Severus. I love you so much." He squeezed tighter. "Don't ever put me through that again."

Severus chuckled. "I shall endeavor not to. Now please cease the tears."

Harry looked up and Severus wiped the blood away with two strokes. He looked down at his hand in wonder. The watery blood sparkled in the dark, or maybe it was his imagination.

His hands looked pale-white and every vein was visible. But they were _his_ hands. The same hands he perfected potions with. The same ones he held Harry with over and over again. Strong, full, mobile. He smiled as he met Harry's eager eyes.

His vision blurred and for one embarrassingly long second he realized he was actually tearing up. He blinked them away and suddenly kissed Harry. The younger man sighed in contentment. After a moment, Severus slowly disengaged himself from Harry.

"I feel parched. Like I haven't drank in years."

Harry nodded. "Yes, I imagine you would be. You need to feed. The sooner the better or it will get worse. I'm surprised you weren't begging for it the moment you woke." Then, more apologetically, "I'm sorry."

Severus merely smiled. "Do not apologies. I am perfectly aware of how a vampire operates. And I must have you to thank for the strong blood. I imagine your blood combined with your powerful magic is why I do not feel the strong urge to feed. But perhaps we should..." He indicated outdoors.

"Yes. Whatever you want, Severus." He looked Severus over with obvious approval. "Perhaps you should get changed first," he added.

Severus looked down at the sweaty pale nightshirt and nodded. Harry suddenly smiled. "Stay here, I'll pick out something for you." He was off in a dash and Severus merely rolled his eyes as he shook his head.

He peeled off the nightshirt, dropping it to the floor. Clad only in his boxers, he made his way across the room where the full length mirror hung on the wall. He suddenly stopped as he stared at the reflection.

His mouth drooped slightly in sheer shock. It was surely he, but oh so different. He approached closer, taking in his entire frame. His body, practically skin and bones hours ago now stood regal and strong, despite the state of undress.

Sinewy muscles lined his arms and his shoulders were no longer boney. His chest was flat but carefully defined and his hip bones barely protruded as they had. His legs were shapely and muscles flexed with every turn.

Old scarring faded to almost nothing and his skin from head to toe was pale and smooth. He touched his chest in wonder, feeling odd at the sight of himself. He never imagined he could look like this. It was a strange sensation.

His hair remained shoulder length, the soft ebony wisps just grazing his collar bone. It seemed fuller and darker and it felt soft to the touch, like Harry's.

He stared into his own eyes finally. The bottomless black pits stared back at him in apprehension but a quirk of his eyebrow reminded him quickly just who was standing there. He was never a vain man, but he allowed himself a slight curve to his lips as he secretly marveled at what he had become.

He flicked a pink tongue to wet his crimson lips and immediately felt the prick of his razors. Curiously, he opened his mouth and mapped each perfect fang with his tongue. With a slight, "hmm", he twirled around just as Harry walked back in.

The young vampire noticed the mirror and his smile turned mischievous.

"Like what you see, Severus?"

Severus coughed. "It is...different. I am quite pleased."

Harry's smiled widened. "You look twenty years younger."

Severus paused and turned back to the mirror. Yes. That was it; the unfamiliarity. It was the same man staring back at him in the mirror, but younger, more handsome and more alive than ever before. He frowned as he realized his nose unfortunately remained as it was. Ah, well. Immortality clearly wasn't a cure all.

"I suppose I feel twenty years younger too. I confess I never thought much would change. But it is a pleasant surprise, I assure you."

Harry smiled, handing over the clothing he had collected. Severus looked down at the familiar black garments of years ago and arched a brow in question.

"It suits you. Now please put them on before I lose control."

Severus laughed and started to dress. Harry walked over to the window and stared at the night sky, a peaceful expression on his face.

Severus found himself copying Harry's demeanor and realized for the first time ever, what it was to be perfectly content.

THE END.


End file.
